


Less Than Partners

by Miss_Macabre_Grey



Series: Filling in Gaps [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Figuring out alien genitalia, M/M, Rating Increase, Slow Burn, Swimming, Very Literal sleeping together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-08-22
Packaged: 2019-02-17 02:52:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13067598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Macabre_Grey/pseuds/Miss_Macabre_Grey
Summary: After some long heart-to-hearts, Lance and Lotor decide to test the waters on their tentative new relationship as allies, or possibly friends. Lance sees himself as Lotor’s friend, and yet also sees Lotor as a duty. Somehow they both keep an agreement to help complete each other and make each other better.





	1. Nipples

**Author's Note:**

> Third part! Again, this is a series instead of chaptered because it does have a huge overarching plot other than two people bonding, and I’m more willing to update this with less multi-chaptered commitment than if I needed to make sure it has a broader story.
> 
> Part one was my indulgence on trying to have Lotor internalize his situation and place on Voltron with Lance. Second part was Lance coming to terms with aspects of himself and Lotor helping to guide him in his own way. So it’s been a lot of talking and getting to know each other where this one they kinda start off with a sense of familiarity and blooming trust.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third part! Again, this is a series instead of chaptered because it does have a huge overarching plot other than two people bonding, and I’m more willing to update this with less multi-chaptered commitment than if I needed to make sure it has a broader story.
> 
> Part one was my indulgence on trying to have Lotor internalize his situation and place on Voltron with Lance. Second part was Lance coming to terms with aspects of himself and Lotor helping to guide him in his own way. So it’s been a lot of talking and getting to know each other where this one they kinda start off with a sense of familiarity and blooming trust.

Blinking, but still seeing darkness, Lotor has a brief panic as he awakens. Grogginess gone as he tries to figure out why he feels like he is suffocating and unable to open his eyes to a usual purple glow. Lotor takes a moment, short but a full moment nonetheless, to realize he awoke face down, and that he needed to lift his head to register where he slept.

He only lifts his head and shoulders a small ways with delicate care as he tries to recall everything. Understanding hits him only by looking down to an expanse of tan skin. Lotor hovers his body above Lance as he reorients himself, but freezes when he catches sight of the sleeping Lance beneath him. Lance’s chest moves up and down at an even rhythm, and Lotor wonders when Lance removed his shirt during the night. Many locks of Lotor’s hair fall over Lotor’s shoulder and spread across Lance’s skin. The clash of white and cream looks beautiful, and Lotor realizes the colors remind him of himself had he adopted his mother’s appearance. The thought sours his pleasant mood, but the negativity does not settle for long as the way his hair loops and swirls into patterns on Lance’s chest eases him again. 

Lotor almost lays his head back onto Lance’s chest, missing that comfort of warmth and a heartbeat. Lotor catches that thought, and feels sickened with himself. Feeling so much ease around a former enemy should revolt him; instead, he only contentment and a sense of gratitude that he truly feels Lance is a _former_ enemy. Lance said to use the word friend, but Lotor cannot justify something so familiar and unheard of in the Empire. For the life of him, Lotor finds no memory of him feeling so completely relaxed with any of his former allies either, not enough to share a bed with them, especially so.

Lance could have done many things last night to Lotor, and Lotor would not have known. The warmth of his body as Lotor held him while slipping asleep eases Lotor into have the deepest slumber in possibly millennia. Lotor takes in a deep breath and realizes how comfortable his entire body feels, like weights of stress and fears and complications that manifested in him suddenly healed with one good night’s sleep.

Recovering from old and built-up ailments worked wonders, but Lotor needs to leave quickly. As much as he enjoyed the lightness of his shoulders, he had gone long without letting himself properly address the tiny injuries of his body, so no they he feels better, he can go on again. Never needing to succumb to a tempting bed and questionable company again now that he feels better. Lotor wills himself to move, but his hair slides across Lance’s chest, and the steady breathing hitches as Lance shivers.

“Mmn,” Lance hums, burying one side of his face into the pillow as he stirs slightly, revealing his neck.

Lotor’s hair tickle Lance everywhere, and Lance even smiles when they slide across his exposed neck, letting out what Lotor understands to be a giggle. Lotor tries to pick up his hair with one hand as the other balances him up to move, but the shift in weight on the bed stirs Lance even more, and his blue eyes flutter open.

Lance turns his head slowly to face Lotor, and Lotor sees the cloudiness of his gaze as he smiles like a simple-minded fool. “A Beautiful. . . angel?” Lance murmurs. A hand reaches out to Lotor, but Lotor feels no aggression in the slow movement, and surprises even himself when he allows the half-awake Lance to touch his face with his palm. “Y’re real?”

Lotor sighs and gets out of the bed, wasting no effort in trying to keep Lance asleep any longer. Hearing a whine from Lance, Lotor knew better than to turn around. “I am very real, Lance, but I am no angel.” Even saying the word angel feels foreign on his tongue as the Galra have no such concept.

“Mmnm, I guessss,” Lance slurs as he tries to shift into a shifting position. “But really b’tiful.” Lance says it in a low and breathy voice, and Lotor turns around to see Lance wiping his eyes with his hand then lightly slapping his cheeks.

Lotor lets Lance stare at him for a moment, waiting for the sleepy human to wake up and get his wits together. Instead, all he sees is Lance’s soft and groggy smile turn in a trickster grin.

“Good morning, beautiful.” Lance looks more awake, even if he still seems groggy. Lance pulls his arms up for a stretch and then takes a step out of bed. “Huh? Why am I stepping on my shirt. When’d this come off?”

Ah. A question Lotor has asked himself already. “I awoke with you in such a state. Quite unnerving. It is flimsy armor, but I cannot imagine shedding my last bit of protection off while sleeping.”

Lance shrugs. “Meh. It’s common to not wear a lot of clothes to sleep. You’re kinda warm, so I probably slipped it off in the night without thinking to cool down. I didn’t take you for a cuddling type, but you helped me sleep really well. More importantly, how are you feeling? Better?”

Lotor’s skin crawls at the thought of “cuddling.” Somehow too many defenses came down last night, and Lotor wants to both tell Lance his honest gratitude for allowing him the chance to properly regain strength, but he also fears being in Lance’s debt and the idea of being vulnerable ever again. “I had an adequate night.”

“You said most nights have been bad, so I guess that’s better. If it’s about me, though, I can bunk with Hunk for a night later when you need a good night’s sleep.”

Lotor averts his gaze away from Lance, a smile almost playing on his lips. Each time Lance shows his earnest desire to please Lotor, Lotor wants to build another wall. Except. Those little offers of kindness have too often been what Lotor needed. Still, he needs to be at least half honest with his tentatively-titled ally. “You are not the problem. I found your presence . . . not unwelcome once I had fallen asleep. Trying to sleep with someone else near is disturbing in thought, but the practice turned out beneficial.”

Lance showed teeth as a smile split his face. “Cool! Even if you’re really hot, it’s comfy to sleep with you as, like, a living blanket.”

Lance scoffs at the idea of being used a blanket, even if that is a reasonable description of the position he awoke in. “Lance,” Lotor begins except he releases a yawn unexpectedly, “Lance, you should get dressed. The princess mentioned battle training after breakfast.”

Lance looks for his clock before he looks for a shirt, confirming for himself that he really does need to get ready. With a groan, Lance hangs his head low and shuffles to the closet, only wearing one slipper, since he removed one the night before. Lotor has no reason to stay, and also no reason to leave, either. As Lance starts looking for a shirt, Lotor idly takes the time to look around the room, realizing many items look completely new to him. Including Lance. 

“Those . . . things on your chest. What are they? The brown spots,” Lotor semi-asks, pointing at the marks as Lance walks around shirtless.

“Huh? What are y- oh!” Lance squeaks a reply and quickly drops the shirt he found, using his arms to hug himself and cover the spots. “Stop ogling my nips, dude!”

“They’re nips? Are they a part of humans known to bite?”

Lance looks positively flabbergasted. “Do they bi-No! No, they’re nipples! And they’re, uhhh, a mixed debate for humans about how appropriate it is to look at them.”

“So,” Lotor drawls out in a way that still sounds sophisticated, “how inappropriate was looking at your ‘nipples’ in specific?”

Lance’s face looks redder than Lotor expected, but the flushed color looks pleasant on his face. “It’s not the worst thing to do, for a guy, but it’s also under the assumption people aren’t going to go around asking about them either. It’s just something you’re not supposed to worry about. . . You don’t have nipples?”

Lotor smirks. “You aren’t supposed to ask about that.”

Lance looks exasperated. After picking up his shirt from the ground, Lance covers himself with it, keeping his back to Lotor the entire time. Lotor admires the way Lance’s back muscles move, but lets Lance finish changing so they can move on with their day. Lotor shivers from the idea of thinking of the day as “their” day, but Lotor also has to admit that if he has any chance of being less bored aboard the castle-prison, he will stay with Lance.

Lance turns to him, looking almost like himself, only slightly more flustered than usual. “You’re such a weird guy, Lotor. Or, well, I dunno. Maybe we’re just different, I guess. Cultural differences are never fun when you don’t get something, but, I mean, if it’s not already obvious, feel free to ask other questions later. I can’t speak for all of Earth, and nipples is a weird question, but I’ll try to talk to you when you wanna get closer to understanding humans and the people you’re stuck with now.”

Lotor eyes Lance and spots all of his insecurities, the ones Lance confessed to having the previous night and others that Lance himself may not have exactly pinpointed. In all those insecurities and issues, Lance continues to offer himself to Lotor, flaws and all. Lance has so much heart when he speaks Lotor thinks he may suffocate with his own heart stopping mid-beat. Lance wants to help Lotor be more than Lotor; he wants Lotor to be a part of a team, and is willing to put himself on the line to make that connection. Lotor cannot find a single issue he has with Lance, nor can he justify Lance’s insecurities. To Lotor, Lance is uniquely flawless in his genuine persona of “the good guy.”

“You know, you really love admiring my looks. I have yet to return the sentiment properly. You’re unexpectedly attractive.” Lotor wonders if the unsure Lance and the confident Lance will, one day, come together to become someone Lance can feel proud of himself for — but those thoughts have no place in Lotor’s mind. 

The reaction is clearly in Lotor’s favor, as more of that lovely red dusts Lance’s cheek. Lance turns away and covers part of his face with his hand. “‘Unexpectedly’ seems generous. Sure you didn’t fall in love with me at first sight?”

Lotor knows Lance wants to deflect with humor, but Lance clearly had no idea how to take the words, and the joke about his looks rings as more self-condescending than it does as confidence. “We tried to kill each other at first sight, I believe. Can’t say I managed to find you attractive trying to destroy you. We can repeat that fight this morning if you’d like to be my sparring partner.” 

“You want to pin this hot bod beneath you again?” Lance teased, face returning to a normal shade as Lance plays off another joke. Then his face falls. “W-Wait, no, I meant that the other way. I’m going to whoop your butt, so you’ll be pinned under me!”

Lotor chuckles in a rich tune that melts Lance to the floor while he walks over. Leaning in, Lotor speaks with his mouth near Lance’s ear, “My pleasure, Lance. I’d love to see you try.” Lotor turns on his heels to the door. After it opens, Lotor takes a step out and turns to Lance. “Well?”

Lance shakes his head, and he suddenly looks more aware and awake. Lance grabs his jacked and slips it on while he walks. Lotor liked knowing that Lance turns out to own the same type of shirt in excess, but the jacket is unique. Lance keeps his face low while he goes to Lotor, only looking up after the door to his room closes behind them. “Training room, right?”

“Yes, though it would do you well to pay attention for yourself.”

Lance shrugs while he keeps his gaze forward, looking almost carefree with a smile. “Yeah, but sometimes I do listen and then I forget.”

Lotor lowers his head into his palm while he shakes it disapprovingly. “I cannot fathom your carelessness.”

Lance does not give a dignified response. Another apathetic shrug and a “mnmn” sound, but he turns his attention to the floor. “I told you already that it doesn’t matter much. Any day now the red lion is going to reject me just like Blue did, and you’ll probably be the right hand of Voltron later. You’re really capable and have a steady personality overall. You’re not even that big of a jerk, so I’m sure you’ll be a paladin soon enough.”

Lotor turns on Lance, pressing him against a wall, using no force when the surprise caught Lance off guard enough to allowed him to be pinned in the spot. “You think you can shirk your duties as a defender of the universe just because someone else may be able to pick up your slack?” Lotor sneers.

The scared look in Lance’s instantly changes to anger, leaning in so he speaks up close to Lotor’s own face. “Obviously not! I’m saying that my job should be getting you ready to be a defender of the universe! I know you’re better than me in almost every way, but I still need to make sure you’re emotionally ready to be in a team — this team.” Lance was so bold as to press a finger against Lotor’s armored chest while speaking. “I love the universe, and I want to protect it, but sometimes we need to learn to adapt to what suits us, and I’m more capable of teaching you how to be Voltron’s friend than a teaching myself to be a fighter!”

Lotor freezes then swats the land pressing against him away, then he takes a step back. “You think being my ‘friend’ is a duty?”

“No, I . . . I think it’s something that I can do, though. I’m really happy to be someone you can consider a friend, but, as far as Voltron goes, that should be my main concern.”

“No. Your concern should be being better than yourself. Forget about me, and match the worthiness the Red Lion sees in you. You think you’re passing on your responsibilities, but I know this is your chance to give up, and I refuse to be a part of it.”

“Fine!” Lotor turns away, but Lance grabs his wrist. Rage of being stopped shows in Lotor’s eyes, and he yanks his arm from Lance’s grip. Lance takes a deep breath and holds Lotor in place by his sincere and serious expression alone. “Fine. You’re right. You’re right about me using you as a scapegoat to leave, but you can’t take away the way I think, and I _do_ think you’d make a great paladin, and I _do_ want to see you become better than yourself, too. So, Lotor, we should go to the training session, practice fighting together, and get better and being better, together.”

Lotor would smile at the gullible optimism in Lance’s short speech has he not been so upset a moment ago. At the very least, the words calm Lotor’s disappointment for Lance, and he nods. “I see nothing wrong with me, but,” Lotor pauses and does let a small smirk grace his lips, “I accept your proposal. We can — how did you put it — ‘fill holes’ in the Voltron team.”

Lance let’s out a breath, but he nods and relaxes. “That’s exactly it, yeah.”

Lance seems more eager to walk to the training room now than compared to when they first left his bedroom. Eager to learn is a good look on Lance. Lotor thinks how, possibly too soon, Lance will begin his crumble, and that Lotor will once again have to make Lance see his best self again. Lotor hates thinking he has to worry about his companion’s well being, wishing Lance could keep himself in check, but Lance would do whatever he could for Lotor. Even if Lotor never asked, Lance assured him of his own value the previous night, and promised to make Lotor’s life mean something in the universe while they fought against Zarkon. Lotor never asked for assistance, and he tells himself that he has no bound duty to Lance; except he feels the binding connection since Lance never asked to be a Paladin of Voltron either. They both have jobs assigned to them, and they could work through them together.

By the time Lotor finishes his thoughts on his duties to Voltron and Lance, they reached the training rooms. Lance opens the door to let Lotor in, and everyone seems ready to start, already paired. Lotor assumes this means he will work with Lance after all; he did want to try sparring with the leader, though.

“Lance, Lotor,” Allura greets them with a nod, though she hesitated with Lotor. “Today’s training is straightforward. I called for it so we could focus on sparing instead of taking down the robots. The next planet has Galran foot soldiers without seemingly any druids or bots. The planet is not inhabited by anyone else, but it’s a good supply stop that makes for a good foothold for ourselves if we can reclaim it.”

“Hu’kim? It’s been weakened especially with many stops beyond it having been reclaimed. Taking the supplies already left there would benefit us, but does not make a large blow on the Empire. You’re playing it safe?”

“For now, Lotor, we have to. The coalition made it through the last big battle, but we need to reestablish ourselves and gain back confidence where we can before another big blow,” Allura speaks coolly to Lotor, not liking having to explain herself to him, but also possibly being annoyed she has to go over the plan in general since Lance and Lotor arrived just after she finished the first time.

Lotor gives her a diplomatic bow and smile. “By all means, stay cautious. Even after losing a third of their claims, the Galra are not known for being more cautious than aggressive, and will come at us full force if we attempted more so soon.”

Allura scrutinizes Lotor’s expression for any dishonesty or sarcasm, and Lotor believes she looks away in annoyance because she cannot find any. Lotor has spent his life earnestly trying to win people to his side, and he did so with baby steps, so he truly did not dislike the princess’ plan when he commented, just her.

“I suppose that covers the bases for today’s training. Spar as you will,” she announces as turns her back to return to where Hunk stands. Pidge and Matt already started their fighting, distinctly different than the other despite being siblings. Coran takes a fighting stance against Shiro, and Lotor finds that to be an interesting matchup considering Coran has many more years of experience but less practice recently.

Lance is rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze away from Lotor when Lotor starts to focus on him. “We should begin. I suggest focusing on hand-to-hand combat without weapons to start.”

“Oh, sure. Ready to go d-“

Lotor rushes forward to Lance’s legs, quickly striking them well enough that Lance loses his footing and trips. “Hey!”

“And hello to you, too, Lance,” Lotor greets while hovering above Lance, one booted foot place on Lance’s chest. “Did you want me to announce myself while I was charging in?”

“It would have been nice, Lotor!”

Lance stops speaking when Lotor’s boot presses ever-so-slightly harder. “Rise. You must always be quick to recover.” Lance punches Lotor’s knee, or makes an attempt for it, except Lotor steps away faster. The image of Lance punching his leg is quite unexpected, but it is also not proper form and Lance cannot rely on it.

“Haha, I’m back up,” Lance cheers for himself as he whooshes back onto his feet. Lotor almost feels sorry for him as they charge to each other at the same time.

Lance ducks under Lotor’s fist but his footing slips and he has to spin to stay upright. Lotor swings his arm back, lowers his hips, and tries to make a sweeping kick to get Lance to fall again. With unexpected grace, Lance jumps and twirls himself in the air to land an attack on Lotor’s side.

Lotor leans back into the touch, into Lance’s arms as he reflexively catches Lotor, and Lotor uses that conditioning to catching people as a chance to land a mock hit to Lance’s gut. Almost using his strength, Lotor manages to stop himself before his fist lands. He reminds himself this is only practice, and Lance can tell when in a practice match that the hit to his stomach could have left him hypothetically reeling in pain enough to be out of a real match. Lance groans, but he still holds Lotor in his arms. Lotor would have never tried using a move like that in battle against Galra, who have no conditioning to trying to help others before they fall and look out for comrades.

Lance has a pure heart, and Lotor exploited it in a fake fight. Best to learn it now than later, Lotor told himself. Even though it is a small part of him, Lotor worries that using Lance’s unthinking reaction to helping others would indicate that Lance should change his willingness to help, especially his friends, and especially in a battle. But Lotor also did not want someone taking down Lance because the human has no knack for fighting.

“Damn,” Lance grumbles, finally lifting Lotor from his dripped-down position in his arms so Lotor can stand upright. “It kinda felt like dancing. I haven’t danced in a long time. We should definitely go out sometime.”

“Dancing and battling require discipline and focus. If I danced with you and you dance like how you fought, I will have to decline.”

Lance rolls his eyes, a cheeky gesture Lotor will have to get used to. “That’s not fair! I have light feet when I fight. I just don’t know, like, how to fight while incorporating the light feet I have as a skill set. I usually just, um, go with the flow. I’m not saying it’s good for fighting, but it’s good for dancing.”

“Only one of things should have your concern. You can’t save your life and the universe dancing.”

“The hell I can’t. I got loads of universe-saving experience dancing. My coalition parade performances are the best! Some of them are recorded, if you want to watch later. You’ll probably have to be included in them soon.”

Lotor wants to reprimand Lance for changing the topic, for not taking training seriously, but he uses a precise strike to Lance’s right shoulder to get him to pay attention. Again, Lotor held back his attack strength, but Lance understands the message. They continue fighting and bucking while they fight. Lance does not necessarily improve, but he demonstrates great stamina and, admitting, very light footwork that let him move fluidly between attacks. Lance collapses to the ground, third after Hunk, then Matt, lose against their respective partners. Only Coran and Shiro continue their battle, with Lotor putting his faith in Shiro, but respecting the power behind Coran’s spirit and skill.

Lotor keeps Lance on the floor, sitting beside him as Lance heaves air into his lungs. Lotor pants as well, but the need to compliment Lance for not being worse than expected forms on the tip of his tongue. “How’d . . . I dance?” Lance asks between breaths.

Taking in his own long breath, Lotor has to exhale before answering. His voice cool and even, he still sounds honest when he replies: “It was a bearable dance. Music is customarily advised, though.”

“Next time then!” Lance grins, wide and proud, that freezes Lotor in place for a moment to look before Lotor snaps his head away. Battles never truly end, and Lance takes Lotor’s back to him as an opportunity to attack, wrapping his arms around Lotor and tugging him down with a laugh.

“What are you — unhand me, Lance!”

“Nah, I win this fight! What’s the point of a dance if you can’t hold your partner at the end and make a sexy pose?”

“Dragging me to the floor, wrapped in your sweaty body is sexy to you?” Lotor cannot see Lance’s face, but after he speaks he is instantly freed. Lance must be embarrassed, and Lotor wishes he could see the face he made at Lotor’s words.

“I wouldn’t say it’s not sexy,” but Lance’s voice comes across as a mumble. Regardless, Lotor takes his regained freedom to rise from the floor.

Lotor offers a hand out to Lance, who graciously accepts with a small thanks. Lance looks to Allura, who seems occupied watching Shiro and Coran. “Hey, Lotor, no one would notice if we snuck back to my room again. I need a shower, and I bet you could, too.”

“Mm, yes. If I stick around your princess will try to talk to us again. I’m a bit too tired to have her criticize how I spar.”

“Yeah, that’s not ideal. C’mon,” Lance says as he limps for the first few steps to the door. No one really notices their disappearance, and it’s not like the others continued fighting after the first round, so Lance feels guiltless for ditching. Still, he does want to improve, and he knows he needs to work out more, but he wants to train his body and muscles his own way. “Hey, Lotor, change of plans. We should head to the pool instead of my place.”

“Lance, what are you planning?”

“Huh? Nothing, nothing! I just figured you haven’t been swimming in awhile, and it’s something I’m good at. I don’t wanna, y’know, burden the team, but if I have to learn how to fight I wanna practice in cool water first.”

“You swim like you dance?” Lotor asks, something almost playful in his tone.

Lance smiles through Lotor’s doubt. “Better.” Lance rushes past Lotor, excited to reach the pool faster. Not that Lance leaves Lotor behind, who matches his pace as soon as Lance sets it. Lance thinks it feels so carefree, running off with Lotor and enjoying their brief time together. In the time it takes to reach the pool, Lance’s legs start to wobble, but that seems like all the more reason for him to want to work his muscles more.

The castle pool smells nothing like the chlorine of Earth pools. Instead it has a soft and sweet smell, more like melons and refreshing fruits, and Lance breaths it all in. So long as the water feels like water, Lance could enjoy the small changes. Without prompt, Lance begins to strip, kicking off his shoes and shirt. When he reaches for the button for the pants, Lotor finally speaks.

“You expect to go into the water wearing nothing?

“Not really. I’ll keep my boxers on. But you? You should definitely take off a layer or two. This isn’t about aquatic combat. I’m just here for a fun workout.”

Lotor seems unamused and unsure. “I will not shed my armor.”

“Lotor,” Lance draws out, pouting. “It’s water. It’s fine. If anything happens to you in there, I’m more than capable of helping you out.”

“Capable of helping is not assuring. You can swim, but I am already fit enough to not need this additional training. I’ll wait here, wearing armor.” Lotor cannot understand Lance’s openness about showing skin. To the point where Lotor awoke to a semi-naked Lance. What Lotor once considered Lance being carefree seems more like blatant foolishness now. 

“Armor is just going to weigh you down, and you need to swim with me. It’s important to me as a part of my strengths and weaknesses that you should know. If you swim in all that, I’ll probably win our race.”

“A race?” Lotor quirks an eyebrow, but he remains unmoving.

“Yeah. Just a simple workout. Three laps around the pool, and whoever makes it through faster wins.”

“Wins what? Will there be a prize?”

“Other than pride knowing that I beat you at something? Hm,” Lance mock-thinks before looking back at Lotor. “How about a kiss?”

Lotor takes a step forward, and leans over Lance. With one arm wrapping around Lance’s back and another tilts Lance’s face to look up at him. “Why would I need to earn a prize for something you would freely give?”

Lance flutters his eyelashes, his gaze heavy and clouded. He unconsciously leans in, but Lotor presses a finger to his lips. Snapping to reality, Lance jumps out of Lotor’s hold, very literally, and rushes to the pool’s edge. “Whatever. I’m going to take a swim, even if you’re too scared to take the challenge.” With that, Lance drops his pants to the floor, revealing plain grey boxers and his nice legs, before diving into the pool. Lance causes minimal splash, most of the water staying in the pool.

Lotor suppresses his worry when Lance takes some moments to resurface, only to feel a twinge or annoyance when Lance does emerge on the other side of the pool. He is fast, as much as Lotor hates to admit it. Not only that, Lance looks so graceful in the water, content and carefree when only a minute ago he looked like a fleshy puddle on the ground from fatigued limbs and Lotor’s own flirtation.

Which, in Lotor’s own mind, he finds odd to say. Flirtation matches his actions to a word, but seems off. Lance flirts. Lance bats his eyelashes and tells any creature in the galaxy some nonsensical compliment, and seeks approval and a response from others. Lotor does not seek such, ever. Lotor usually calls his “flirtation” another fool for manipulation. Lotor calls it “charming” people. Gaining alliances. Tricking others. Anything. But. Lotor has no ulterior motive with Lance. When he held Lance close and mentioned a freely given kiss, Lotor knows a part of him was more teasing Lance than flirting, but even teasing was unlike him.

If Lotor wants to “tease” someone, he often went all the way and planned to attack or act on malice. For everything he can think of, Lotor cannot find a good reason for him to _pretend_ to want a kiss from a human. Lotor finds Lance amicable, but the thought of a kiss, let alone from a separate species, seems revolting. Yet, he teased, flirted, or something, with Lance, and kept an honest face. Lotor feels starved for entertainment and purpose, so he attributes that alleviation to his problems to Lance, who promises him meaning in his life. Lance, who recognized that Lotor wants to be a good leader whom the people respect as well as want. Lance saw Lotor’s true intentions, or true desires, their first conversation together, and Lotor feels uneasy saying Lance was right.

Lotor really does want a team and to be able to trust others. When Lotor talks to Lance, things seem meaningful, and he is given reason. A reason to fight Zarkon and win for the entire universe. A reason to want to be a better leader beyond power. A reason to go see a human boy’s island in a small little planet on the edge of the universe. Lance said what Lotor would never say, and Lance is right there, offering himself, disregarding himself for Lotor. Lance wants Lotor to openly want, to openly give in. It is disgusting, succumbing to his desires and emotions, but Lotor does have the capacity to feel, and Lance makes it feel almost, just almost, safe to feel.

All the while Lotor ponders his actions with Lance, Lance is floating carefree in the water, stomach up and making small circles with his arms to glide himself along the edge. Lotor takes action, removing his armor while Lance gracefully relaxes in the water. All without Lance noticing, Lotor lowers himself into the pool, reeling at the cool water on his skin before he dives in farther.

Lance eventually feels the disturbance, and turns to see a very naked Lotor about chest deep into the water. “Whoa! You really don’t have nipples!” Lotor thinks Lance looks too delighted by that fact. Lance was right; someone pointing out nipples, or lack thereof, does feel uncomfortable.

“Please, Lance, I thought my beautiful face was all you would stare at.” Lotor adjusts to the water’s temperature, and he feels his body, or rather he feels it feel weightless as he steps in farther. Soon, he finds himself actually needing to swim as it gets deeper, and Lance meets him in the middle of the pool.

“So,” Lance whistles, grin wide and proud, “you’re in with me! Nice to see you followed my advice and took off the armor.”

Lotor rolls his eyes. “I loathe being so bare, but you seemed to be having too much fun and not enough exercise so I needed to correct that behavior.”

“Pfft. Oh, but I was just waiting for you. Knew you’d come around. We should start at the shallow end and have a race then!”

Lance speeds past Lotor to get to said starting end, Lotor evenly following suit. Lance actually feels some pressure with Lotor failing him so fast, but he pushes the fear to the side. Water was his zone. He would not even let the former Prince Lotor take that pride away from him. So when Lance reaches the end first he loses his smile and faces Lotor with a real fire behind his blue eyes. “I forgot this pool is way bigger than a lot of Earth. We swim to the other edge and back. First one to tag his hand on the wall wins.”

“Did think you finally think of a better prize for when I win?”

“No, since you’re not winning! On the count of three, go. One.” Lance takes a breath and positions himself alongside Lotor. “Two.” They both look ready. “Three!”

Lance dives under the water while Lotor starts off shoveling water past him on the surface. Lance really had not set any rules, and Lotor cannot feel waves by his feet, which makes him think Lance has a lead. Lotor considers for less than a second how much he hates getting his hair wet before his pride jumps in and makes him dive underwater as well. Thankfully, Lotor can see with his eyes open in the water, and Lance is still a body’s length ahead.

A few more seconds pass and he only closes the gap enough to reach Lance’s feet. Even without solid rules, Lotor wants to win without any underhanded tricks. The race is a workout, too, so Lotor needs to make sure Lance gets the most out of it and let him move his body freely. Despite Lance being ahead, they have a similar speed, and Lotor has better lungs. Lance eventually goes up to the surface when he touches the wall first, which brings Lotor’s head at Lance’s chest. Lotor persists, but so does Lance. When Lotor makes it to Lance’s neck, Lance goes faster, and Lotor’s finds his face by Lance’s shoulders.

Right after Lance speeds up to ensure his win, his face runs into the wall, and Lotor takes that half-second to touch the wall. They both swim up to the surface together.

“Oooow! Not the graceful win, but looks like you owe me a kiss, Lotor!” Lance boasts, face falling when he sees Lotor’s smug expression. “Uh, why are you smirking like that? Did I squish my nose or something?”

“Oh, you certainly did. But, Lance, you did not win. You said to tag the wall with a hand, not face. My hand touched the wall first, so I won.”

“Th-that’s a technicality that’s totally not true. I definitely said you just needed to reach the wall first, and I did, even if I did it with my handsome face.”

“You’re mistaken, Lance. I would not lie about this. I won this race, regardless of your speed being better than mine. Control is definitely something we can work on.”

The panic of realizations sets in. “But . . . but I never lose at swimming.”

Lotor gets closer to Lance, the water letting them be equal height, and softens his expressions. “I would not say you lost at swimming. Lance; you truly were faster and better at maneuvering, but at this particular race, you made a technical error. So, I believe you owe me a prize.”

The lovely pink touches Lance’s cheeks again. “You said you didn’t want that prize, anyway.”

“I merely said you would want to kiss me even if I were not the winner. It may not be power and freedom, but a victory kiss from you suffices well as my prize.” Lotor does lean in closer. Lance offered the kiss as a playful joke the same way he would call Lotor hot or entertaining. It meant nothing, and the pride of winning more than satisfied Lotor even without anything extra. 

When Lotor feels Lance’s lips against his cheeks, he feels fear, and pushes Lance away. A joke. Lance was a flirtatious human, one with many self-worth issues; he was not supposed to be bold enough to kiss Lotor. Or even mature enough to admit defeat. Yet, he looks hurt across the small stretch of water separating them, and Lotor knows he barely used his strength. “Sorry, uh, I guess that really isn’t a good prize. I think I’ll let you use my room’s shower. It has good conditioner in it for after using the pool. Does that work better?”

Lotor feels guilty, somehow, like he has wronged Lance and he cannot comprehend why. He is more confused than anything. “No, that’s . . . I appreciate the offer, but that does not need to be a prize. I assure you again. Your kiss suffices.”

“Then . . . “ Lance sounds as confused as Lotor feels, “why did you push me away?”

“I merely did not expect it. I assumed you would be to scared to actually touch me in such a way. Being wrong is not my usual, but I do not dislike you being bold enough to kiss me.”

“So, like, if you knew it was coming,” Lance returns to the closeness they had before the kiss, “then you’d . . . be more okay if I kissed you?” And Lance pushes closer still, and pauses right before Lotor’s face. “You’re not wrong. You said you didn’t need to win against me for me to kiss you. You’re right about that.”

Lotor decides to seize the moment. The magnetic pull between them overpowers Lance’s desire and Lotor’s judgement. Lotor places his lips over Lance, precise and exact. It almost feels bland except then Lotor feels Lance’s hands on his face and shoves then together. Lotor realizes he should show some more action, and moves to meet Lance’s eagerness. His face tingles and breathing through his nose is harder than he likes. It feels like a suffocating attack — possibly because it is, as Lance proves when he bites at the bottom of Lotor’s lips. Not that Lotor knows entirely how to proceed, but he opens his mouth and his long tongue wraps around Lance’s shorter one. Lance reminds Lotor for a second time in about five minutes that Lotor has better lung capacity, and he pulls away panting for air.

“I like being right, Lance,” Lotor says, breath uneven but not the same heaviness of Lance’s.

“I like that you’re a bad kisser. We should work on that. Add it to your short list of flaws to improve on while you’re with us.”

Lotor wonders if he has ever been so disrespected, and even if it was a low blow, he feels far too euphoric to lash out against the commentary. “We can work on it, yes. But that we extends only to you and me. Do not say ‘us’ in reference to the Voltron team.”

The flush of Lance’s cheek, there from lack of air, spreads wider. “You’re right. I’m the only one I want teaching you how to be a better kisser. Buuuut, we do need to work in your friendship skills. You can’t keep calling Allura ‘your princess’ or the other Paladins by color.”

“I think it gets the point across.”

“The point that you’re an asshole?” Lance rolls his eyes. “Lotor, you’re a messed up dude, no lie, but that’s kinda a situational thing. You’re in a new situation, and you should take advantage of being able to have friends around. It won’t be easy, but that’s why it’s something you have to work on, and why I’ll help you. You need to be someone we can really care about from our hearts and not because of fear to make this team strong enough to defend the universe. We’ve been over this. You know this.”

“It’s the first time you mentioned that I have to be ‘friends’ with you lot. I have yet to call you a friend, either. It’s not a word I understand.”

“Lotor . . . We’re friends. We’re _something_ if you kissed me back. I’m not saying it’ll be easy to get along with people, but you can’t focus on only ‘charming’ them. It’s about being genuine.”

Lotor scoffs, turned his back to the pool wall to lean on it. “I see no reason charming isn’t enough. I charmed you, and isn’t that enough of a start?”

“You _befriended_ me.”

Lotor crosses his arms, and his clawed hands squeeze. It stings even if he does not draw blood, and Lotor takes it as a distraction to calm down. “I won’t say we are friends, Lance.”

Lance looks angry, the lovely and starry gleam in his eyes gone. “Then what _would_ you call us. You tried saying we’re allies. We aren’t _only_ allies, though.”

Lotor unclenches his arms and exhales. Lance is right, again, but finding the right word for them has been a hard task throughout their day together. As many times as Lance insisted on friendship, it seems too strong a word, with emotional commitment Lotor knows he feels but cannot admit to, not yet. “I think,” Lotor pauses, getting the word right in his heart before he speaks again, “I think I don’t mind you as my ‘companion.’”

Lance sighs, but it sounds like one of relief. “If we’re going that route, I’d rather call us partners, but it’s a start.” Lance looks at Lotor, then steals another kiss from Lotor’s cheek while he leans on the pool edge, causing Lotor to slip lip-deep into the water. Cackling, Lance looks happier than Lotor has ever seen before, and Lotor splashes Lance as petty revenge. Even with the retaliation, Lance’s smile does not falter, and he seems happy around Lotor. “Well, c’mon, _companion_ , let’s get out of this pool. I worked out plenty. Now we should shower and relax.”

Lance swings his leg over the pool edge and makes his way out. He drips from head to toes, but he shakes himself as dry as he can without looking like a yupper. Lotor follows the example, and steps out of the pool, but his long hair falls ever direction, over his chest, shoulders, and back, and he shivers as the annoying cold air blows over his skin. Not that Lotor has much time to think of his discomfort for long before Lance shouts.

“You’ve been naked this entire time?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, I like writing them getting closer. Hopefully that’s making sense. There definitely fun parts to write, so I hope you enjoy and comment! 
> 
> Love,  
> Grey


	2. Pizza

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heya! There’s about 5 different ideas I have for Lancelot, and, hey, this is the fourth installment. Or. Well. More like 3.5 Lancelot bits, and some little Voltron team fun. I dunno. This series will probably end when I get to vent out those ideas. Today’s installment is FRIENDSHIP because I *clenches fist* love friendship. The Lancelot here has been in my head for WEEKS. Basically since I got into this ship I wanted Lotor and Lance to get to have these little slips. Hope it’s a good time for you kids.

Lance knows how impolite it is to stare. Lord knows his mother taught caught him staring enough times to give him the same speech over and over. Lance knows that just because he stares, he does not get any closer to getting answers about the pretty purple alien before him. Lance knows to look away and save face, but the pretty purple alien catches him right away.

“Pass me my suit, Lance.”

Lance snaps out of his trance, but his face brightens and he tries to cover his blush instead of grabbing the suit. A bad move, Lance realizes, when Lotor steps closer to retrieve it himself. “You, uh, don’t wear anything beneath your armor?”

Lotor pauses and shakes his head. “This armor is designed to the utmost protection with mobility in mind. Why should I bother keeping something beneath it that could hinder the range I have in it?”

“No reason, no reason. Humans and Galra difference, I think. Thought you’d have, like, space undies or something.”

Lotor has no concept of space undies, but Lance does not take the time to explain. More than anything, Lance wants Lotor to put on his suit again, or else he will continue staring. 

“Lance, have I done something to upset you?” Lotor asks too directly. Lotor plays games and manipulates, but he never dances around questions he wants answers to. Lotor, more often than not, Lance realizes, is actually a very blunt and honest person. Keeping secrets is one thing, but Lotor always spoke clearly about topics he deemed non-issues.

Lance scoffs and coughs and tries to worm a sentence out of his mouth even though it all sounds like gibberish. After a moment of rattling “Wha-? Now why’d you, no, I- no, it’s fine, nothing, uh, no, wrong, what?” Lance finally just shuts his mouth. He goes back to staring at Lotor. “I’ve never seen alien junk before.”

“You’ve never . . . seen the sectors of space holding alien waste and garbage before?”

“S-sorry, ummm, uh, no, I mean,” Lance waves an arm in the air while his other hand rests on his hip. “By alien junk, I meant, uh, ‘genitalia.’ Junk is earth slang. Along with prick, man meat, cock, reproductive part, uuuh, vagina? Depending on the person.”

Lotor remains close to Lance, hair soaking and water rolls down each second that pass with him just eying Lance while Lance talks and fidgets. Giving up, Lance just sighs and closes his eyes completely since he can’t trust himself to not try peeking again. Except he doesn’t hear the rustling of fabric for Lotor to put back on his armor, and Lance worries he inspired a streaker kink in Lotor.

“Uh, Lotor? You can put on your armor now. I, y’know, shouldn’t be . . . looking . . . anymore?” Lance raises his voice a bit, squeaking out a conversation as he cannot figure out what to say to Lotor now.

“You find my body something that needs observation, Lance.” The lack of question makes Lance’s face redden. “Hm, I did say I would teach you about space reproduction, but I wonder about our differences now. Are these related to reproduction?” Lotor does not just point out Lance’s nipples, instead twisting it in his long fingers. His touch resembles both a child trying to play with a toy, and a scientist carefully examining a new specimen. Truly objectified and confused, Lance wants to tell Lotor off and defend his nipples’ existence, but he moans instead. “Well, that’s certainly new information.”

Lance shivers from the wet and cold touch, and his knees buckle, only keeping upright by grabbing in to Lotor. Not that Lotor continues playing with Lance. Instead, he simply allows Lance to rest in his arms, a hand trailing along his bare back. The intimacy scares Lance, Lotor’s hard body pressed to his while Lotor maps out the human body by touch. Lance grips at Lotor’s (nipple free) chest while he tries to work up the muscle to get his clothes and _leave_. Except, if Lotor gets to touch, then so should Lance.

With Lotor not throwing Lance off yet, Lance takes a moment to notice the subtle difference in their body. Saying humans do not come in purple or have different genitalia was one thing, but even the texture of Lotor is inhuman. Like leather and suede, Lance notes how it feels durable and thick under his fingers, yet it also has a subtle softness that feels smooth and gentle. It feels like flesh, not like scales on a fish or fur on a deer. The distinct feeling reminds Lance of a strong warrior who is also ensuring care of his body. “Not human,” Lance thinks to himself, “but nice.”

Immediately Lance retains himself and shoves Lotor away when he feels a hand grab Lance’s ass. A rush sweeps over Lance, his body letting him know exactly how much he likes the feeling. Lance fears of what will happen if he keeps giving in to his desires. How long since he felt Lotor’s lips on his? How easily did that turn into Lotor and Lance feeling each other up. “M-m-maybe we should take it slow, right?”

Lotor sighs and wrings his hair again to get more water out. With how he turns his back to Lance and finally starts slipping on his armor, Lance worries Lotor now wants nothing to do with him, and he stands cold at the thought. Lotor has to still be interested; they were just moving a little too fact for Lance to handle. Except Lotor was a man who likes to learn and solve puzzles, so Lance may have just shoved Lotor who wanted nothing more than to figure out humans rather than get frisky. Either seems likely from Lotor.

“You are no longer aroused,” Lotor says with such ease.

“Wha-? I-?”

Turning to face Lance after getting his last arm in the suit, Lotor gestures to Lance’s crotch. “Your, how to say, ‘junk’ is no longer out. Perhaps it’s the cold air to thank, but it’s dangerous to have them practically exposed. I assume humans are as sensitive as Galra in that area.”

The the floor could swallow him whole, Lance would let it in that moment. “I-it’s just a natural reaction!”

Lotor smirks at that, but thankfully does not get closer. “Yes, but control and restraint would do you well. I kept mine flaccid despite quite enjoying your body.”

At that moment Lance takes a deep breath, and tells himself to not scream and run away after hearing his hot alien companion say he enjoys his body. Then it clicks when he thinks about Lotor being worried about Lance’s erection for sensitivity reasons and . . .

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold up, do you have dick?” Lance almost shouts his question, but keeps his voice level.

Lotor raised an eyebrow, and tilts his head to the side. “That’s more slang, yes? You’re being quite direct, but, yes, I do. I just have control over mine, of course.”

Lance feels his face burn both from embarrassment and frustration. “No! No, I mean . . . Where is . . . You . . . I saw your junk! It’s just a hole and a dick isn’t usually . . . Uh, a hole.”

“Lance, please, what are you saying? My ‘dick’ isn’t a hole. It’s similar to the one you pressed against my leg moments ago.”

Lance makes incoherent gestures with his hands that mean nothing except they help him vent his thoughts a bit. “Then! Then why didn’t I see it? Lotor, what kinda alien junk do you got? Didn’t you say you’d teach me?” Not incredibly polite, but Lance had moments ago pressed his own junk onto Lotor, so “politeness” can be ignored for a moment until he got an answer.

“I did say that . . . “ Lotor runs a hand through his hair as he sighs. Not that he looks defeated, but he looks like he may give in, if Lance’s hopefulness reads the situation right. “You should have figured out that my ‘hole’ is merely where my own dick comes out. Unless aroused, Galra keep their genitalia sheathed.”

“Whoa, that’s cool. Different. But, uh, that’s cool. Beats getting kicked in the nuts randomly.”

Lotor purses his lips, and eyes closed as he thinks. Lance really has no filter, but Lotor still does not understand with his Earth terms. Using some context clues, Lotor tries to piece together where they differ exactly, and thinking does not solve his question more than action. With a fluid motion, Lotor grabs a handful of fabric of Lance’s boxers, shifting his hand over it as he feels the outline of Lance’s soft cock.

“Wh-Whoa! Lotor! Back off my dick!” Lance shoves Lotor as he yells, but the feeling of Lotor rubbing him through his clothes will be ingrained into his body’s memories forever. “The hell?”

“Humans are evolutionary nightmares. Your natural state is . . . is to just expose sensitive organs? How do you perform in battle? For what reason would you not develop biological protection? Are humans often found performing sexual activities and therefore evolved permanently exterior genitals as convenience? Your body is atrocious.”

“Well, excuse me if my genitalia doesn’t fit your battle standards! It’s a damn good dick and a damn good body. Besides! You-you don’t even have _nipples_!”

Lotor scoffs. “Which I’m sure are just another evolutionary mistake on humans. Tell me, what purpose do nipples serve,” Lotor commands, challenge in his tone.”

“Shut up! They feed babies!” Lance retorts, but he uses his arms to cover his nipples as he turns his body to face away from Lotor. “Uhhh, babies that . . . I can’t actually have, b-but nipples are still important! They’re definitely better to have than to not!”

“An evolutionary mistake, for certain. No ability to have babies but you have parts taking up cells and muscle to feed them. Your body is inefficient.”

“My body is an absolute _dream_ , asshole!” Lance feels angry and embarrassed. He wants to disappear, so does just that.

Without saying anything else, Lance grabs his clothes and storms away, not wasting any time putting them on. Even though Lance internally knows he is overreacting, he will not calm down unless he can step away from the situation. So he may not have done it well or maturely, but Lance knows leaving is the right idea as he storms out of the pool room and tracks a light trail of water to his room. Maybe he will never talk to Lotor again, or maybe he can eventually apologize for taking things too personally. Lance only exploded because he really started to get too emotional and close to Lotor, and having his body called a nightmare really took a toll from someone who was making him really hot and bothered.

“I’ll apologize. It’ll be fine,” Lance tells himself as he reaches his room, already feeling clear-headed once he got a chance to think away from Lotor. Lance drops his clothes to the floor and heads to the shower, hoping warm, clean water will clear his head enough to think of what to do.

Even with his body covered in wet wrinkles, Lance welcomes the shower water. Lance offered Lotor his shower as a prize, but Lotor clearly lost that right, and Lance is happy he did since he loves having his bathroom to himself. The calm sound of the drops hitting the floor ease him, and he starts putting on his makeshift lotions to really relax  
him. Lance rubs himself all over, except he avoids his cock, already springing to life at the pleasant warmth. Lance really wants to be mad at Lotor, but he drops his grudge as fast as it formed. Lotor sucks with people, and Lance knew that. Being mad at him for being himself and trying to learn and assert his superiority should be obvious. Except. The memory of Lotor touching him, from his lips to his hands, drives Lance wild and, more than anything, Lance is upset at how much he likes the idea of having more.

Lance really does not want any attraction to a beautiful space prince, so he has a small crisis trying to decide if he wants to rub one out to the thought or just keep shampooing his hair.

—

Lance grabs his comfiest pajamas, feeling like he deserves them. He towel his hair mostly dry and ignores the fact that without the water distracting him that he has a soft ache in his muscles. Lance slips on his Lion slippers and robe, and figures he can go exploring the castle. Even with his games in his room, he wants to find someone he can trust like Hunk or Pidge to play. If he plays alone he knows he will start daydreaming and moping, so, even at the risk of running into Lotor, Lance walks to the kitchen. 

Lance counts his blessing when he sees Hunk at the castle’s equivalent to an oven. Great. He can get some of Hunk’s home cooked food on top of a video game buddy. For a moment Lance actually feels pretty lucky and happy.

“Hey, Hunk. What’s up?” Lance asks with a wide grin and he pulls up a chair behind his friend. Hunk, focused on his cooking, jumps at the disturbance, and Lance stifles only most of his laughter.

“Oh, hey, Lance. I’m trying a new recipe since practice got me hungry. I bet you’re starving, too. I doubt Lotor held back when you sparred.”

Lance holds down his embarrassment, and nods. “I mean, I held myself well!”

Hunk flashes a supportive grin, and Lance appreciates the full amount of kindness in it. The smell of Hunk’s cooking relaxes Lance as much or more than seeing his friend. Lance thinks he deserves some of that kindness, especially considering his recent company lacked in that department. Wasting no time, Lance pulls a chair out and sits near the prep counter.

“Wanna try kneading the goo?” Hunk asks as he grabs some ingredients he bought from their last planet outing. The locals offered the team the food without charge, but Hunk offered a bit of GAC anyway, even though Lance knew Hunk had no idea what the food was like. Hunk just trusted them and assured them he would put it to good use in giving nutrients to those defending  
the galaxy.

Lance can smell the raw ingredients, and he notices his stomach hum. Even if the space goo barely needs any kneading, and looks as bland and boring as every, Lance decides to help and do as requested. Lance would offer to do more, but he really has little knack for space food experimentation. Sure, he can follow a recipe and get close to his food should be, but he has never even seen a recipe for anything in space. So Lance works in silence as he mushes the goo and treats it like dough between his fingers.

The soft stimulation of working with his hands eases Lance, and his thoughts turn to match the puddly in his hands. Lance wishes he could add something in the good just to make it more of a toy than a chore, but just the motion of kneading becomes a stress relief. As though he totally had things under control and was not floating in space to fight a war on the front lines and needed to sort out some newfound feelings. Lance can pretend everything is fine and he is chilling with Hunk at the Garrison again.

“Hey, buddy, pass the goo. I think I’m about done here on my end,” Hunk says, but his attention is on his cutting board.

Lance catches only the end of what Hunk said, but he gets enough to figure out he should start paying attention. “Oh, cool. I guess I’m done, but what are you planning?” Lance asks, just to ask more than out of curiosity; he does not need to know, really, since he just wants to eat. It anyway.

“That’s a secret you’ll have to find out in about 25 minutes  
. Now turn around while I finish up!”

The smirk is proud and loud, and Lance loves seeing Hunk so confident. Even so, he feels a newfound challenge. “Oh? I don’t think I can wait that long.” Lance waggles his eyebrows, but gets no reaction from Hunk other than laughter.

“Pfft, no, dude, you’re either turning around or leaving. You can figure it out when it’s in your mouth.”

“Uuuugh,” Lance throws his arms in the arm, exacerbated, but swivels his chair around so his back faces Hunk. “You’re lucky I like you. Otherwise I totally would have just left and not given you my amazing company.”

 

“Prepare to turn that like into love after you have my amazing lunch!”

“It’s definitely linner. Lunch ended like an hour ago, and it’s too early for dinner.”

“Time is fake, and you suck, Lance.” Lance hears the pout on Hunk’s face.

“I also swallow.” Lance still has his back turned to Hunk, but by the sputtering sounds Hunk makes, Lance worries he broke Hunk and consequently linner. “You okay, big guy?”

“Ugh, Lance, you’re the worst. I’m trying to cook, and I almost burned myself putting the p-food in. You can turn around, by the way.”

Lance swivels back to look at Hunk’s pretty face with a smirk. “Miss looking at me?”

Hunk rolls his eyes. “Always. How ever could I live without seeing my best bro Lance?”

“I can’t help you, man. I’m constantly with my best bro Lance. Gotta say, he’s pretty amazing.”

“You must be so lucky. I have Hunk, though, and you know he’s pretty cool, too.”

“Oh, I’d bet. I’m looking at him right now. The coolest. After Lance.”

“Sure. After Lance.” They pause in their positions, just staring at each other before simultaneously breaking out the biggest smiles and laughing.

After a few moments when they calm down, Hunk wipes an imaginary tear from his eye and slaps Lance in his back. “So, what’s up, man?”

Lance shrugs. “Wanna come back to my room later and play a game?”

“Oh, sorry, I would, but I’m trying a new communications device with Pidge to see if we can make low-impact tech on certain planets. You know. Reach more people who may need help in a pinch but don’t currently have the means to send out long distance messages.”

Lance sinks in his chair. That means Pidge is out, too. He really wants to hang out with someone, and no one should suffer by being in the same room as Hunk and Pidge (probably Matt, too), when they channel out the outside world and talk tech for ten hours. Still, far be it of him to get in their way. Lance can believe easily manufactured and cheap emergency communication will make a huge difference in getting planets liberation. The low impact part makes Lance guess about how important Hunk must consider the job.

“I think Pidge saying something earlier about things because compatible with all planets and to not send harsh signals to lifeforms nearby. That’ll be good for living planets like the Balmera.”

Hunk hunches his shoulders and shoos away. “Yeah, that’s . . . ideal.”

“Does it come with video, or do you plan on just having phone sex with Shay if you got it working?”

“Lance!” Hunk suddenly huffs up and throws one of the cooking mittens he had at Lance’s head.

“Relaaaaax! I’m not going to judge. I get it. You’re tooootally doing this for intergalactic peace only. Even if you and Shay are cute together.”

“I hate you, man.”

Lance laughs and throws back the mitten. “Is the food almost done yet?” Lance thinks only a few minutes have passed, but he wants to eat and hopes Hunk says it will be done soon.

Hunk checks the time. “Little less than half the time remaining. Another, like, 12 minutes.”

“Smells good, but I’m huuuuungry.”

“Go get a snack. You can find something to put in your stomach. Didn’t you say you swallow?”

Lance feels his ears heat up and he hides his face in a hand. “Grooooss!” Lance puts his head on the table, and, while his face is hidden, smiles a bit. “Besides, you know me, I’d probably never swallow. Imagine some dude’s hot jizz running down my throat? I’m definitely spit.”

Hunk raises a brow. “You considered this in detail?”

Lance keeps his face hidden behind his hand, but at least raises it from the table. “I mean, not really. But I know I definitely don’t wanna have to drink from some cock.”

Hunk looks at the oven silently and sighs. “You’re so great with words, truly, but. You’ve actually thought about this before, right? Are you just worried about it being gay if you swallow? I mean, Lance, it’s really fine. I don’t think anyone cares about . . . stuff like that. Not here.”

Lance knows Hunk is right. Lance can let go and be himself in space, but that seems covered up by Lance having to play the part of a hero first. Even if he has different ways to be himself, being the happy, carefree version of himself gets tossed aside every time he has to go out and almost die for the universe. Lance hates hunk for ruining the lighthearted mood, even if it meant a lot. Lance does not want something to mean a lot, though, he just wants to laugh with his best friend who can read him a bit too well.

“So, like, be real with me. On a scale of one to super sprinkles rainbow underwear gay, how gay would you assume I am at a general glance?”

“Damn, you know I have the worst gaydar! Uuuh. Three? Three even on the scale? Wait, what’s the numerical equivalent to rainbow underwear gay?”

The door opens without Lance paying much attention. “It’s called ‘super sprinkles rainbow underwear gay’ and it cannot be contained by quantitative means.”

“What are we talking about? Lance’s underwear collection? Pidge asks stepping up to the counter. Even sitting on the short stool, Lance is taller, but Pidge quickly has a seat beside him. “Hunk, have you seen his bright lime green ones? I was blinded!”

“You said you’d block out that memory!”

“I _tried_. They were bright lime green! That’s etched into my eyes.” Pidge exaggerates by throwing a hand up and making it look like she will mock-faint, then quickly recovers with a smirk. “So what were you talking about?”

“Oh, checking on a scale from one to rainbow underwear-“

“- Super sprinkles rainbow underwear!”

“- how gay Lance is.”

Pidge considers the scale a moment, Hunk and Lance see the gears in her little head churning like it is an elegant equation to solve. “Tricky scale, but Lance is definitely ‘Rumor just come out! Does Lance is gay’. He’s not obviously gay, and there’s a good chance he may not be gay, but, hey, he might be. Literally no one can tell think he’s not straight at a glance. But. You can still think he may be.”

Hunk claps, a loud and booming sounding. “Yeah! That’s definitely it!”

Lance laughs with his team as they call him Bruno Mars and ask him to sing. He almost regrets the silly question, but it passes the time to sing off-key together to the last song they’ve heard by him since they left Earth. Soon enough, Lance hears the ding of the kitchen timer, and his hunger returns in full.

“You made pizza!” Pidge and Lance gasp in unison as Hunk reveals the contents of the oven. Pidge reaches for a slice but Hunk swats her hand away.

“I made three so everyone can have a bit. Ain’t perfect, but I think it’ll be close. Pidge, can you go get Matt? I’ll get Allura and Coran.”

“Oh, I can get Lotor,” Lance offers, and Pidge and Hunk turn to stare for a bit.

Hunk shuffles between his feet. “Think he wants any? I mean, I’m pretty sure there’s enough.”

“Like I’d know what he wants to eat. But it’s _pizza_! We gotta at least offer if he’s here. It’s a timeless human classic. A way to establish bonds and friendship. If he takes a bite and doesn’t like it, then I can finish his slice and we kick his untrustworthy butt off this ship.”

 

Hunk shrugs while Pidge smirks. “Willing to eat his leftovers? Don’t mind the alien spit germs?” Pidge teases.

Lance almost retorts that it would not be new, but keeps it in. He forgot he needs to apologize to Lotor, and he does not want to mention anything that went down until he can figure out how Lotor feels about the situation. “I’m hungry and depraved of pizza. Hell yeah I’ll eat garbage pizza if it taste like normal human food.”

Pidge admits defeat and agrees with a small nod. The appeal of home food has undeniable power, and it gets her off his case for a bit. The three agree to split up, and rush out so everyone can eat while the food is still warm and fresh (not that Lance didn’t try to steal a slice while it was still way too hot).

Lance has the farthest walk, assuming Lotor would be in his room on the other end of the castle, but he felt confident in his legs. Except he rarely ventures on that side of the castle, and after a minute of being completely lost, he just starts yelling in the hallway.

“Lotor? Lotor’s room anywhere? Knock, knock, where’s Lotor’s room?” Lance feels like he must be close since the area has more doors and not just empty hallways, so he hopes Lotor comes to find him. “Hello?”

Lance knocks on a door he believe he has yet to test. Just a few quick but noticeable knocks. Lance hears a door open, but does not see it.

“Will you refrain from yelling? There’s no purpose for it,” Lotor’s voice comes from behind Lance. When Lance turns, Lotor leans on the doorway. Lotor has his hair slicked back, but messily as though he just ran his fingers through it instead of immaculately grooming it into place. His face is even with neither disdain or joy in his eyes. His arms cross over each other in his chest as he waits for Lance to say something. 

“So, hey, uh, Hunk made pizza, and I think you should try it. It’s an Earth food, and everyone will be in a good mood if you wanted to hang out and . . . Hang out with us.”

Lotor stays in place, making the disinterested pose seem sophisticated and a bit judgmental. Lance takes a moment to appreciate how good Lotor looks in a somewhat too-small black tunic and what looked like white leggings. Lance assumes the outfit came with the room, and that Lotor must be cleaning his armor, but even though it doesn’t look like it belongs it looks _good_.

“So, uh, pizza is definitely worth getting your butt over to the dining area. It’s not going to be perfect, but it’ll be nice to eat with you and get use to each other. It’s worth dealing with me, at least. I kinda stormed away, I get it, I don’t make sense, humans are weird to you, and trying to figure out emotions must be hard. If I upset you, I’m sorry. I got mad and didn’t properly deal with it. But. Uh. I’m calm and really want you to have dinner with Voltron team.”

“I don’t believe I’m hungry, Lance. Do leave more quietly than you came.”

“Wha- Lotor!” Lance rushes to Lotor before Lotor suits the door, realizing Lotor really does live in a closet. Being in his room with him means Lance could be at max a meter away, assuming they got nearly wall to wall. Clenching his fist, he cannot believe Lotor, who was a questionable ally, not a prisoner, got a room basically worst than the castle cells. “Sorry for barging in, Lotor. Sorry for ditching you earlier. Please come eat with us even if you’re mad?”

“I can manage, Lance. Do not concern yourself with me.”

“But . . . You said you considered us companions. Was I wrong about why you seem mad? I thought you thought humans were gross, and I took it personally without explaining why I was mad. Then I assumed you were mad that I left. If you want, you can just correct me and explain why you won’t eat with us. Please, Lotor?”

Lotor let out a deep sigh. “No, you are correct. I felt great annoyance that you suddenly decided to leave me. I returned to my room, and I realized how much nicer being in yours was. Being in this tight confinement pains me, and with you upset I realized I was stuck here with nothing but a pleasant memory of the first time I felt secure somewhere. I was annoyed my companion suddenly just left when I got a minuscule of relaxation in his presence and had to return to this . . . place. Alone and humiliated.”

With his eyes cast down, Lance takes in Lotor’s words. For all the back talk Lotor gave Lance about human anatomy, it was not like he was respectful of Lotor either. Especially since no one has a body like Lotor across dimensions. Lance sighed and finally looks up at Lotor. “You’re companionship is great to have, and I’m sorry for just leaving without explanation and hurting you.” Lotor flinches when Lance says hurt. Lance realizes that Lotor never said that, and it was another assumption, but one that seems true as Lotor’s face clears to understanding and realizes the word matches his feeling.

“I apologize for calling you an evolutionary nightmare, Lance. Even if your species confuses me, I would rather have kept you by my side to understand it better instead of disregarding it entirely, especially showing enough disrespect that made you leave.”

“Yeah, I feel the same. They’re just different. Not bad. Sorry for making it seem like your internal dick is weird. I’m kinda jealous, honestly. Having balls tucked in would have saved me tons of pain.”

Lotor smirks, enjoying the subtle praise and Lance’s sincerity. “For all our differences, there are some I do like about you.” Lotor steps closer, and a step is all it takes before they are practically chest to chest. A soft purple hand holds the side of Lance’s face, a thumb running along the shell of Lance’s ear. “I enjoy your ears.”

Lotor leans down, and his second hand mirrors the first on Lance’s face. Without thinking, Lance wraps his arms around Lotor’s neck, bringing his face down enough that their foreheads touch. “I liked you your tongue, especially in my mouth.”

“Yes,” Lotor hums as he leans in, “and soft lips are a great human asset.”

No longer wasting any time, Lotor kisses Lance. Lance thinks he may have taken the last centimeter, meaning he kissed Lotor, but he does not care about which closed the gap as much as he cares about kissing back. Lance said Lotor lacked skill in kissing, but he at least had a sense about what to do as he toys with Lance tongue with his own alien long one. Lotor just needed a bit more practice to be good or great, but the feeling of intimacy at all had Lance moaning into Lotor’s mouth anyway. Lance and Lotor rubbed against each other, and, with such a small room, Lance found himself pinned to the wall and clinging to Lotor for support. As more moans left Lance’s mouth, the more enthusiastic Lotor acts, even to lift Lance from the ground and let Lance wrap his legs around his waist.

Lance has to throw his head back for air, hitting the wall with a soft thunk and not caring about the small pain of it in the slightest. “Lotor. Dinner. Pizza. We gotta go.”

“But Lance,” Lotor speaks so softly, voice somehow failing him, “Lance, don’t you want to know how my body works? Our similarities?” Lotor asks.

In a less than a moment Lance understands and feels the hardness of a cock pressed against his. It feels like a human’s, but the fabric gets in the way of figuring out if Lance is imaging it or not. Lance groans. His curiosity about hot alien anatomy is one thing he cannot deny.

“We can bond over our similar love of pizza. C’mon, Lotor. I’m so hungry. Eating is a more important biological need than sex in humans. Let’s go.”

Lotor very literally drops Lance and turns his back on Lance. Lance catches himself, but before he can complain, Lotor talks.

“Step outside. Let me change into my usual attire and I’ll try your damned Earth food.”

The tiniest squeak of “yay” comes from Lance’s lips, getting a glance from Lotor from behind his shoulder. Lance will deny he ever made a sound if Lotor asks, and steps out of the room immediately. Lance waits for Lotor, partially to be polite, and mostly because Lotor knows how to get out of this part of the castle better than Lance.

Lance watches in awe as the doors open to reveal an immaculate looking Lotor. Hair perfect and suit on correctly, he leads Lance with grace through the maze-like hallways. For as jealous as he is that Lotor always looks so good, he takes pride knowing he got to see Lotor moments prior looking disheveled and flush with arousal. When the dining hall opens, only Allura and Coran remain, taking bites of the pizza.

“Oh, hello! The others just left to begin their work since you took a bit of time to arrive. This ‘pizza’ Hunk made is amazing, and slightly warm still,” Coran says between a happy gobble of food. “We left you some slices.”

“Oh, sweet!” Lance exclaims as he rushes over to take a slice, only to find a mere two left. “What gives! Hunk said he made like three pizzas!”

“Yes, well . . . We did save you a bit. And we waited,” Allura supplies, sounding not the least bit remorseful. 

With a huff and grouchy pout, Lance gave both slices and walks to Lotor. “Sorry, this is all that’s left, but if you like it you can have both, and I’ll get some space goo. You deserve to try it.”

Lotor takes the tray, looks at the foreign food before looking back at Lance. “That won’t do. Take them both. You’re the only one between us who wants them.”

“But! Ugh. One each. Just try it.” Lance grabs one and takes a bite at the same time as Lotor. He moans, and he feels like he’s home when he closes his eyes. Sure, it tasted like modified space goo, but it tasted close enough to the real thing with Kaltenecker’s cheese and had perfect texture.

Lotor, for all his dismissal for it, regrets letting Lance have one of the slices. He must talk to Hunk about how to acquire more. Except when he sees how happy Lance is enjoying his well-deserved meal, Lotor only regrets not being stubborn enough to give Lance both and settle on the typical goo. In Lotor’s opinion, Lance has a beautiful smile, and it would have been worth the tiny sacrifice to make him continue smiling as he eats.

“Good, right? Let’s get a plate of normal goo to actually fill us up though. Then, like, I dunno. We can hang out in my room. I have some cool Earth video games you can try playing with me!”

Lance seems happy enough getting just a bit of the food he really craved. The only thing he desire is Lotor’s company, and Lotor feels inclined to indulge. Even though he can mildly feel Allura and Coran’s presence on them, he does nothing he would not do anyway. After all, he needs to be trustworthy and open if he will make “friends” like Lance keeps suggesting. Just. Not at that moment. As soon as Lance grabs them food, they have Lotor and Coran a quick bye and leave, not noticing their confused looks at them.

Lotor feels at ease going to Lance’s room, and even though he wants to continue where they left off before the meal, Lotor lets Lance set up “video games.”

“Ready to lose?” Lance says with a bright grin, attention on Lotor fully, but briefly as he turns too soon to face the television.

“Talking to yourself, Lance? We can play all night and I doubt I’ll lose.”

“Mmhm. You’re on, noob!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not getting comments for like days after posting last bit wrecked my self esteem. Some people wound up commenting, so I . . . I mean, I updated. It’s just really hard because I don’t write for me; I write to share. I want to think sharing my ideas has value to others. So. So please comment, if you may or can.
> 
> I will admit getting the conversation about internal genitalia and nipples off my chest is a relief. I needed Lotor to be repulsed by Lance just a little before he gets into the idea of banging his companion.
> 
> Love,  
> Grey


	3. Cheekbones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who’s a graduated kid now! I spent January working on my thesis, but I didn’t write right away because I, uh, swore off video games until I finished classes and stuff. So I’ve been, like, nonstop on m DS and taking more hours at work so I can buy a PS4 and save for a new apartment. But YEAH!
> 
> RATING CHANGE. M rated at the end. I /planned/ for it to be dry humoing or something with clothes on, but it got a little bit more naked. Whatever, I guess. I like that I’m making stepping stones on the rating. Started at G for part one and I’m making each part more mature. Part 4 will be explicit, but there’s one or two chapters of part three left. I didn’t think this would drag on so long, and I OPENLY admitted there’s not a solid plot, but I like them getting closer and I have one more major desire to write friendship next chapter so it’s at least one more and part four.

Truth be told, Lotor never once beat Lance at any of the video games Lance managed to own. Lotor seemed so assured of his ability to beat Lance before they started, but consistently fell short. Lance has been playing and learning the console’s control for years whereas Lotor has never even thought the concept of a video game could be real. The first reaction Lance received from Lotor when his tv loaded was nothing short of awe as Lotor dropped his jaw at being able to move the pixel sprite with his control. At first Lance explained the rules of his only fighting game, giving Lotor as many details as he could so Lotor would not feel slighted it Lance won from knowing an obscure combo.

Except what seems like nearly two hours worth of playing passed and Lotor still had not won a match. Lotor just got _close_ to winning, which made him all the more competitive and demanding for another round. Lance admired Lotor’s skill because being close is really good for only recently learning the controls, but maybe that was just something integral about Lotor: piloting and learning controls came naturally. Eventually Lance turns off the console after another win, and shuffles to put the game back into its case.

“Why have you stopped?” Lotor asks in such a low grumble it nearly scares Lance until he turns around just to see Lotor wearing the closest expression to a pout Lance has seen from him. “I was prepared to beat you next round, Paladin.”

Lance thinks it’s cute, the way Lotor gets competitive over the game so much he forget Lance’s name, but not enough to really lose his temper or lash out. “Well, this is just one type of game. I noticed you got the hang of that one, so maybe we can get you used to another game. That cool?” Lance would rather do basically anything than play more of Road Brawler II, so he hopes Lotor is willing to at least try literally anything else.

“What . . . is the new game? Would I be able to win against you?” Lotor looks curious more than smug now, unlike when they first started playing.

“Well, uh, not really. It’s a cooperation game. We fight monsters together and win together.”

Lotor sighs and nods. “I think I can handle that.”

“Oh, sweet! There’s an actual story to the game, so I’ll just fill you in and we can fight some of the earlier monsters until you get used to it and we continue the story. I’m not really far, but so far this group of friends saved one of their friends from being a sacrifice to something, and they’re kinda on the run for disrupting the tradition.”

Even with only mild interest in Lance’s very short summary, Lotor picks his controller up again. “Why aren’t I moving?” he asks while spinning the joystick and getting no response from the character on the screen.

“That’s ‘cause you’re player 2. Player 1 does the walking, and you don’t know the game well enough to walk around. Don’t worry, though, I’ll let you be player 1 later if you like the game enough. I guess you mostly play during battle. Speaking of, I need to set who you’re fighting as. I’m the spell-caster who attacks from the distance. You wanna be the healer who fights and makes sure people don’t die, or the one with swords who attacks the most up front?”

“I’ll heal. Someone has to ensure you don’t die, I’m sure.” 

Lance laughs at that but agrees and sets Lotor to the healer of the party. She only has three moves, so Lance just explains how to use them since they’re too early in the game to have enough moves that require them having to sort and choose which ones to use. Once Lance stumbles into a battle, the low-level monsters begin attack, and Lotor begins healing needlessly despite no-one being injured. It seems cute to Lance, the eagerness to do his job and help his comrade, but Lance teaches him which buttons to use to attack, and Lotor looks at ease with the game mechanics within a few rounds of monster fighting.

Lance loves the game so far, but he likes having someone to play with him that can back him up in battle who is not a CPU. Even though Lance enjoys Lotor fighting with him, he senses that he may have accidentally walked closer to where the next plot point is once he sees a save point. Not wanting to get into the plot-heaviness so late at night, Lance explains what saving means and proceeds to shut down the system again. 

“I suppose you no longer need my company now that you tire of your games,” Lotor states like he expects to be right but still sounds disappointed.

“Not really. After seeing your room, I literally can’t bring myself to kick you out. You can sleep here again, you know.”

Lotor closes his eyes, but fatigued does not describe his face. He looks like he is resting, but without sleepiness or tiredness. Lance recalls when they first let Lotor aboard, marred and restless to the point his time in the castle never really seemed to bring him peace. Lance looks at him now and sees how relaxed Lotor must feel, like yesterday really healed him in ways Lance never even noticed Lotor needing.

With his eyes still closed, Lotor starts to speak again, “I will not impose on you.”

“Pfft, like you could. I’m welcoming you in, regardless if you’ve already been here for, like, 3 hours. I can crash at Hunk’s room if you want. He, Pidge, and Matt are probably gonna pull an all-nighter working on some new tech.”

When Lotor opens his eyes, Lance realizes he missed seeing the pretty blue of them, even if they seem full of mixed emotions. “I . . . appreciate your warm welcome, but a host shouldn’t leave so soon. We fit on your bed fine, as I recall.”

Lance does recall, through a haze of waking up and thinking Lotor was truly a beautiful angel. Even though Lance knows his bed can fit them both comfortably with each of them having personal space, Lance is almost worried that they will wake up cuddling again. Waking up to Lotor felt like a dream, and a feeling of worry coils in his stomach when he thinks what would happen if he got used to a dream only to wake up and have nobody around anymore.

“Hey, uh, are you actually tired? Dinner was pretty early, so I think we can hold off on worrying about the bed for a bit.”

Lotor eyes Lance for a moment before letting out a sigh and a small nod. “I do not feel particularly fatigued, no. How do you propose we pass the time?”

“Let’s go hang out with the others. I know they’re weird about their tech, but it’s a little bit fun to hang out with them and see what they make.”

Lance only looks at Lotor from the corner of his eyes, but he feels more than sees Lotor dislike for the thought. Lance turns to look at him seriously, and Lotor holds a firm look in his eyes. Not that Lance was bad at reading people, but he really just met Lotor, and he really does want to make sure he does not force Lotor into any uncomfortable situations. Except he wants to help Lotor to get past the initial discomfort and hang out with his friends, and Lance reflects all that desire in his eyes until Lotor feels it, too.

The stare down continues for a minute, and Lotor sighs as he relinquishes to the overall plan. At worst Lotor will be unamused, which is not an uncommon pattern in his life, so he keeps his eyes locked with Lance when he agrees. “I will go. I must thank Hunk for the meal, at the very least.”

A weight lifts from Lance’s chest and he exhales. Good. Lotor wants something to do with at least one other Paladin in a positive way of his own volition, so that seems like a start. Lance represses his relief so to not explain his full reasoning to be happy. Lotor can handle the thought of Lance trying to make a stronger Voltron team with better teamwork between them, but Lance really just needs a buffer friend in the room so he does not need to think about how to interact with Lotor and their behavior to each other.

Lance stands first, offering a hand to Lotor to help him rise. Lotor takes it without hesitation, and lets Lance pull him to his feet so Lotor is back to being a head taller. While Lotor offers no thanks for the assistance, Lance did not expect it, and so Lance just steps to the door and leads them out. Lance leaves his slippers and shoes behind to walk out barefoot on the pristine castle floors. Lotor cannot imagine being so bold as he never removed any of his armor from the moment he put it on for dinner.

The walk to the science geeks’ common space is calm and conversation-less. Whatever Lance wants to say dies in his throat, despite him wanting to insist that his friends are amazing; he just lost his ability to compliment them to Lotor since Lotor is the type of person who would prefer actual interactions that just Lance’s vouch. Lotor’s neutrally disinterested face indicated Lotor really would need a lot of impressing, not that Hunk and Pidge and Matt would not knock the socks off him. Lance just figured it would at least semi-work out.

Before Lance even opens the door he can hear loud and distinct yells.

“FUwCK THIS GOAT KICKER!”

“Oh, HECKING HECK!”

When the door slides open, Lance finds it hard to keep his laugh inside about Pidge having a much more significant knack for profanity than her older brother. Hunk, the angel of Lance’s eyes, looks near tears, possibly because of the smoke in his face, but also as a possible general Hunk reaction.

“Yo, you guys suck that bad?” Lance asks, a way to announce his presence in case the science losers missed his entrance.

“Shut it!” Pidge barks out, throwing a tiny screw at the door’s general direction and barely getting the thing halfway to Lance.

Lotor turns to Lance, and he looks, Lance would dare say, baffled by the complete flip to the serious and bold Paladins he has encountered before.

“Yeah, shut it! Only we can say we hecked up!”

“No one but you says ‘heck’.”

“Respect your darn elders, you diaper rash gremlin sister!”

Pidge lunges for Matt, and the mock-fight gets dangerous when Matt starts actually swearing and Pidge is biting his arm. It’s hilarious as it is familiar, and Lance can relate to the sibling petty squabble.

Hunk guys on both their ears and pulls them off each other, and only after properly looks at the entrance. “Oh, hey, Lotor. Did you, uh, need something?” Hunk asks while sending a scolding look to Matt and Pidge. 

The siblings look alike in their embarrassed pout, and Lance is loving every bit of this train wreck interaction. Even Lotor looks at a loss for an answer, or as lost as Lotor lets himself look, so Lance cuts in.

“I heard Lotor’s a nerd, too, so I brought him along. You need any help?”

Pidge pouts more and says no at the same time Hunk and Matt desperately say yes.

Lotor grits his teeth, containing more than a few comments he would like to make at both Lance and his friends, but he admits engineering help makes a good explanation for his sudden presence. Lance wants them to be a team, and what better way to form teamwork than to create something together. No matter how much he loathed the thought of being with such loud peers, Lotor could not see an acceptable way to deny Lance’s at least some merit.

“I have no information on your project, but, yes, I have some engineering expertise. Where are you going wrong?”

Hunk’s face goes a little red when he explains the part when he explains he wants to build a communication device that sends signals soft enough that a biological and very sensitive planet could channel without feeling a small wave disturbance. Lotor would not catch it, but Lance does and he feels valid in guessing Hunk’s desire to make a hyper-specific communication device only applicable to one known planet. Lotor, to Lance’s surprise, raises a brow out of intrigue over confusion or disgust, and seems almost eager to approach the half-form communication device.

“We’ve been trying to send this thing signals and have it send feedback wavelengths a planet could translate without distress, but it, well, keeps catching on fire, a bit.”

“A bit on fire?” There’s the judgmental look Lance expected.

“Yeah! It’s like it takes the message, but converting the frequency to some waves more biologically understood isn’t working. So. There’s been a BIT of fire.”

Lotor gets on his knees so that the device is at his height and he reaches in an open part to analyze the inner workings so far. Lance already feels bored as he watched yet another cool person get sucked into the world of 24/7 science talk, which would be really cool for maybe an hour but not constantly day and night. He feels himself almost begin to regret his plan except Lotor looks like he has an Idea, and Lance gets interested again.

“Have you considered adding biological elements to this so-called biological communication device?” Lotor makes it a rhetorical question but the answer is interesting. Lotor asks with a full amount of sass and confidence that Lance heard only when they where in battle and he was winning. With him on their side, though, it was almost comforting in how assured he sounds, like he really can fix their problem effortlessly.

Silence from Science Squad proves Lotor right. Lotor sighs and runs his fingers through his hair and catches several loose strands. Twisting them, then tying them together, Lotor takes the hairs and coils it around the inside center of the device. His hair shines with multi-colored iridescence, beautiful as it cools around and disappears into the rest of the wiring.

“The-what-how . . . ?” Hunk asks first when Lotor flips the switch to the machine and no smoke appears.

“My hair has biological properties, of course, but it is also stronger than most metals and wires and conducts certain properties you needed to convert without exploding during the final step.”

“Holy shit, that’s kinda cool!” Lance exclaim, all smiles and ready to pretty much hug Lotor. Lance can tell Pidge just wants to study Lotor’s hair, since she looks just as interested and amazed.

Hunk really does hug Lotor, and Lance jumps in on the action so it quickly turns into a group hug between the five with everyone singing Lotor praise and respect. Lance wonders if Lotor’s skin can literally crawl in discomfort, but has no chance to wonder long before Lotor breaks free.

“Enough!” Lotor gulps a breath of air and glares at the group while he runs his hand over his head to set back in place his both luscious and scientifically valuable hair. “You’re . . . welcome. Never do that again.”

The group laughs but before Lotor can get angry for their mockery they agree to never hug him again and swear they will properly get him something as a reward later.

Hunk extends his arm, hand in a fist and Lotor eyes it with small disdain.

“Oh, yeah, sorry for not explaining. You bump it.”

“I do what to what?”

Hunk smiles, all teeth but no detectible intention of a threat, and shakes his fist. “My fist. You bump it with your own, and it’s a way to show a good job without having to hug.”

Lance nods in the background, pleading with his eyes that Lotor carry the motion, and, without realizing, Lotor does respond, and without any harshness as they bump knuckles. As odd and unheard of as it seems, Lotor feels some satisfaction. Like a reassurance through physical presence, but not without much touching and brevity that makes the motion of bumping fists bearable. The gesture also seems to please Hunk, which seems to please Lance in turn as he jumps up.

“Oh, yeah! Time to send Shay some cute poetry! C’mon, everyone let’s give Hunk some time alone to try out the thingie!”

Matt and Pidge make elongated “ooh” sounds, with Matt batting his eyelashes and making loud “lip-macking” noises. Hunk kicked them out, along with Lance and Lotor, purely on grounds of embarrassment even though Lance really does hope he tries to contact Shay.

Before the door closes behind them, Hunk calls out to them, and stops Lotor mid-step. “Really though. Thanks. You’re pretty cool, Lotor. If you have any tech you want to tinker with, I’ll be happy to try and help.”

Lotor tucks the promise away as a future possible favor, but he knows Hunk means nothing devious by it. Hunk saw Lotor’s help as a gesture as goodwill, which was very naive, but Lotor does appreciate the genuine thanks and promise for future . . . camaraderie. Within a day or so, Lotor feels like he doubled the amount of people he could tolerate on the prison-ship without feeling either enraged or out-of-place. With Lance by his side, though, he wonders what to do next.

Lance walks out with him with a radiance that almost spreads to Lotor. Despite not being able to relish in Lance’s happiness since it cost Lotor his own comfort, Lotor appreciates the soft smile Lance flashes him and the puppy-like excitement in his eyes. “You’re really amazing, Lotor. For real. It took you like six seconds to help them finish the machine they’ve been working on for, like, ever. I don’t know what they’re doing, but I know they’re all geniuses and they’ve been working on it for hours. I know you’re amazing, and I can say that all day, but . . .” Lance grabs Lotor’s hand to give it a light squeeze. “Thank you. It means a lot to all of us to see you work with us for technology to help the universe, but it means a lot to _me_ to see my best friend able to get a chance at alien-love-happiness.”

Praise, at times, felt like a fool’s food to Lotor. The _opinion_ of whether Lotor preformed well or not always held more weight on Lotor’s actions. He could conquer a thousand planets, but he would not do it “well enough” or according to others’ ideals. He could do nothing but sleep and be praised for not making a situation “worst” according to his father. Seeking congratulations or approval from others meant nothing, so Lotor seldom sought it. Getting a compliment from anyone mattered little because Lotor learned to do nothing for others and to do work only he himself found value in.

Yet Lance giving Lotor praise in the form of gratitude relaxed him. On one hand he still believes having Lance’s praise him is worthless talk, an on the other he recalls Lance is his first companion in the prison-ship and has done nothing but try to allow Lotor securities and other reliable companions. A secret third part of Lotor could almost admit that, perhaps, he did genuinely enjoy being thanked, with no ulterior motives or plans to sweet-talk Lotor to become a tool later. The warm thank you from Hunk, and particularly Lance’s, could fool Lotor into thinking he had nothing to fear and that he could trust that gratitude in their eyes to help him later.

Thinking he can trust might be Lotor’s downfall. Regardless of whatever Lotor saw in the eyes of the Paladins, Lotor has to watch his words and his steps still. Perhaps he can believe Lance and Hunk may not hurt him, except Lotor cannot ignore the possibility of being used eventually by his forced allies. Without wanted to seem either attached to Voltron nor against it, Lotor keeps calm and neutral in his reply to Lance’s heartfelt commentary. “I merely supplied a part that I have in abundance and conveniently that happened to be crucial for them. I cannot guarantee that I could be so useful later, nor will I tarnish the progress they had made before I interfered.”

“You were useful _today_ , though. Just now. I’m not thanking future you. I’m thanking the you five minutes ago who kicked wavelength ass and looked hot doing it. You really need to take it in the moment. You can help when you can, and everyone’s happy to have it. We don’t expect perfection, but it’s amazing to have you, you know, pitch in and do what you can. It’s nice and it matters.”

A knot twists in Lotor’s stomach. His voice becomes low and his eyes darken when they look at Lance’s bright ones. “Perhaps that attitude hasn’t killed you yet, but perfection is the only way to survive. If you think ‘help’ is enough, you’ve been far too lucky. Success is built on perfection and results, not helping and good intentions.” The glare in Lotor’s eyes mixes disappointment and resentment, aimed straight at Lance.

Lance glared right back. “Why are you getting so snarky with me? Helping and intentions are how people at least start doing something. When people want to help, it means they’ll start doing, and doing gets things done! Helping is where it starts, and how you can start being a part of this instead of just a perfectionist ass!”

“What would you do when someone wants to help but is incapable of success? Would you let that person try just to fail?”

“Yes! If they fail they can learn to be better!”

“If someone fails they could die! Someone might get someone hurt or jeopardize missions if they cannot rise to every. Single. Occasion. The entire universe could lose, if the stakes aren’t already obvious to you.”

Lance feels his eyes tear at the corner. He clenches his fist but all he wants to do is punch the wall beside him. Before he can think twice about it, he sucks in a deep breath, exhales, and tries to relax his stance. “You’re right.” He takes another deep breath. “You’re . . . right. If someone fails, in a war, a lot of the worst-case scenarios can become real. I’m only trying to explain that . . . perfection starts somewhere, and you seemed like a perfect member of Voltron just now when you helped.”

Lance turns on his heels to stop facing Lotor, but Lotor grabs his arm before he can storm off. “Just now isn’t good enough. If I want to survive . . . I must learn how to always be a perfect member of Voltron. Loathe as I am to say it, I must continue being perfect should I wish to survive this war and be on the winning side against my father. I must request you assist me, in teaching me about how teamwork in Voltron works later. I cannot trust you, Voltron, as I am now. I am not a part of Voltron yet, and surviving means being on this ship as an equal member, which . . . involves trust difficult to give without great feats.”

Releasing another deep breath, Lance still feels heated, but he cools down at Lotor’s non-threatening touch. “Look, I’ll say it again, we don’t plan to betray you, and we don’t care if you mess up a little when it’s just us in the castleship. You don’t feel like a team player yet? It’s fine. We aren’t asking for miracles from you to suddenly love us and devote your entire life to being our best friend, but, just now, you had our back and worked with us. Things like that? That’s perfect. You’ll survive. With us. We’ll get through this, Lotor.”

The part of Lotor that dreaded the idea of trusting Voltron begins to shrink as he understands how trust comes secondary to surviving. Lance spoke of them like they belong together already, Lotor a part of Voltron officially, and it tricks Lotor into thinking that is the safest route to follow. His words, however, fail him, and he cannot bring himself to agree or disagree, his ability to charm and manipulate a situation in his favor despite what he truly believes dissolving.

Lance, fortunately, takes the silence on Lotor’s end with little judgement in his eyes. Instead he reaches for Lotor’s hand, waiting for a signal. Not that Lotor has enough ability to reject the touch, considering he wants to play the part of a cooperative ally and not a disinterested rogue, Lotor relaxing into the feeling of Lance’s skin against his own. Without putting up any resistance and seeming almost comfortable, Lance gives his hand a small squeeze. Lotor feels like he wants to explore his possible connection with Lance, as a way to find out the limits of both Voltron and of his own ability to find any hidden motives. After a quick glance down at their interlocked hands, however, Lotor thinks he may need to find a physical boundary with Lance, as well.

“I won’t make you be around anyone else right now, but, maybe, if you want, you can still let me hang around. I don’t mind your company, Lotor, but you’re free to have time to yourself if all this has been a lot for one day.”

“Would you like to head to my room, Lance?” Lotor suggests, listening to Lance vaguely and skipping the step in his reply where he admits he wants to keep Lance’s company.

Lance bites his lips and tilts his head. “You need to get something? It’s kind tight in there. If you want me there, I’ll come with you, though.”

“Lance, while my room is ill-suited for most things, it is . . . distant from the others.”

“I mean, yeah. It really is. You can head over, I can ask Allura right now that we get you a room bigger than a closet where the team actually is since, y’know, you’re becoming a cool team member now!” Lance’s smile seems too vibrant to be so close to Lotor.

Lance meant his offer so sincerely, and, honestly, Lotor would love the idea of having actual space and amenities to himself. Still, Lance’s goodwill is ill-timed, and Lotor shoots Lance a hard stare as stops in the hallway. Lance stares back, brows furrowed with confusion and concern. “Think, Lance. About my room being farther from the others. And about what we only briefly got to experience the last time we were alone and distant from the others.”

Lance’s face heats, and he turns on his heels. “I think we should still go to my room. If you want to chill with me for awhile longer, that is. You don’t have to follow.”

Lance walks, and Lotor follows. “Lance,” Lotor speaks slowly, matching each of Lance’s steps forward, “if you wish for me to have a choice in where we go next then why are you walking away?”

Lance crosses his arms over his chest, his gaze cast downward. “I’m kinda processing that you . . . keep using we. If we went to your room, it seems like you’d wanna . . . really make us a ‘we’ thing. If we both go back to my room, I can pretend I’m just doing this because that’s closer to everyone in Voltron, and that you and me being close is just trying to make Voltron close.”

Lotor keeps his voice low since they arrive in front of Lance’s room, meaning if he raises his voice someone in a nearby room may interrupt. All he manages is grit his teeth to emphasize physically his annoyance. “When I use us it should be an honor. The ‘us’ I may use in reference to Voltron is merely from necessity. This is an us that, as you may have guessed, implies that I desire something distinctly from you the others cannot satisfy.“ Lotor allows Lance to lead the way to his bedroom, but wants to make it clear that he has a separate reason to follow than to merely “hang out.”

The sliding sound of the door opening muffles the last few words, but Lance understands, ushering Lotor in. Lotor takes a single stride inside, making it seem as powerful and fluid as he could. When the door closes, Lance pushes Lotor into it, stands on his toes to reach Lotor’s lips and kisses him sweetly. For as swift and fast as the motion has been, Lotor expected something much harsher and more emotionally fueled, but Lance just wraps his arms around his neck and pecks him as though he just did something to be affectionate instead of passionate.

“What was that?” Lotor asks, eyes narrowed but he subconsciously raises his fingers to touch his lips.

“A kiss. That’s all I want. I don’t want more than that right now, Lotor. I just want to hang out with you and get to know you and flirt a little. If we head to your place . . . I’m pretty sure we’d cross a line of just ‘chilling’ together. That’s what you wanted, right? Sex? I was barely in your room five minutes before you had be moaning against a wall with your alien dick grinding against mine. I’m kinda into that, but eventually, you know? I wanna let you know that as attracted to you as I am, that would involve a lot of trust that we haven’t established yet.”

Lance slides his hands to hold Lotor’s chest, his eyes no longer looking at Lotor while he ponders something. “You barely trusted me not to kill you in your sleep. You woke up today startled that I shed my ‘armor’ while I slept with you sleeping on me. I’m real damn attracted to you, yeah, but I want you to trust me to make you feel good, safe, not just that I won’t kill you when you go skinny dipping in the pool.”

Safe? An impossible emotion to feel that does not deserve to have a word. The concept of safety: security, comfort, acceptance? Never had all three been achieved in Lotor’s entire lifetime. When he last almost felt a sensation close to feeling safe, it landing him with a knife in his back. “I am allowing you permission to have me when I would be at peak vulnerability as a sign of goodwill for our future together, yet you refuse. That is not heard of, Lance.”

The use of his name always seems so intimate, especially when the both of their lips tingle to connect again. Lance remains strong and slides his hands down until he holds both of Lotor’s. “I’m not flattered, really, but I don’t want this to be about vulnerability. Didn’t you kiss me in your room because you wanted to feel it? Pleasure? The joy of connecting with someone else in a way where both parties could feel at ease and let go for things to work out for the best? I know how to hurt you, but I would never. I want to know how to pleasure you, but you would have to tell me.”

The saliva in Lotor’s mouth becomes hard to swallow when Lance lifts his hands so that they slide over Lance’s chest. “What are you doing?” comes out even though other questions come to his head.

“I’m showing you how I feel good. Remember, my nipples are sensitive? You could play with them, and I trust you could make me feel good rubbing them. But I’d need to know how to touch you back.”

Lotor purses his lips together and feels less sure about his actions than he anticipated. Mild attraction clouded his mind as he realizes Lance’s point. Without much promoting, Lotor squeezing Lance’s little nubs over his shirt and relishes the small gasp that comes out. Lance looks slightly different than that he simply trusts Lotor with a vulnerable spot on his body; once Lotor sees Lance close his eyes completely and sling his head back to moan between clenched teeth, Lotor notices Lance simply trusts him.

“You didn’t want to go to my room. Are you sure you’d want me to keep going? For us to continue whatever this is?” Lotor asks with an almost mean tug at Lance’s chest that makes Lance shudder.

“Mm, Lotor . . . I’m not that loud,” Lance murmurs as he looks ready to melt on the floor. “But I wanna make you moan. Where would you let me touch you?” Lance reaches out his hand, almost reaching Lotor’s face before Lotor slaps his hand away. “O-oh, uh, sorry? Do you not want anything from me?”

Lotor finally manages to gulp down his spit and take a breath before slowly leaning in to kiss Lance. Unlike the soft kiss Lance gave Lotor, Lotor adds more depth and nibbles on Lance’s bottom lip before Lance opens up his mouth for the taking. Not rough and bruising, but the kiss lingers on their skin and tongues when they part. Lotor lowers his hands to wrap around Lance and finally presses their bodies together. Lance does not feel Lotor’s cock press against his again, but he can tell Lotor still feels some arousal with the way he rubs their bodies together, unable to miss Lance’s cock hardening between them. 

Lotor follows Lance’s actions, and takes Lance’s hands into his own and presses them to cup his face. “I wasn’t thinking when I pushed you away. Under my eyes, near the cheekbone, would be my weakness that I have never shown anyone. You’re nipples are still covered, however, so it would be unjust to touch my bare skin if I cannot do the same.”

“O-oh! Okay! Y-yeah!” Lance wonders if the red in his face spread all over, but embarrassment is forgotten when Lotor looks eager to please and sensitive at the same time. Lance parts barely and briefly to shed off his jacket and shirt, leaving him in only his now tight denim jeans and worn sneakers. 

As Lotor reaches out his hand to embrace Lance, Lance moves away and sits in his bed, facing Lotor with a smirk. “It’s less stressful when we aren’t standing. So. Um. Want to continue on here?”

Lotor quirks up a brow, his face flustered and confused. “How far are you willing to let this continue?” And even as he spoke the question Lotor’s feet moved closer, wanting it to go however far Lance would allow it.

“I just want us to touch each other. We’re testing this . . . whatever between us. For now.”

“For now then,” Lotor agrees as he kneels over Lance on the bed, a knee between Lance’s leg and beginning to pin Lance down as he covers Lance in kisses. Lance stays true to his word, keeping quiet enough to justify not needing to go all the way to Lotor’s small room, but Lotor wants more. A brief thought crosses his mind where he could care less if others heard. It was simply a part of getting closer to Lance and Voltron. The other Paladins should feel relief that Lotor has a reason to not blow up their ship if they happen to hear their moans.

So as Lotor trails his mouth down to mark Lance with his long kisses, he becomes devious and latches into one of those perky nipples to give it a long suck and tender bite. When Lance arches his back, fingers digging into the bed, and unoccupied mouth singing in pleasure, Lotor pulls off to examine his handiwork. Lance looks enamored, flushed red and hazy-eyes as he stares at Lotor. A mistake, though, since to look at Lance’s in all his wanton beauty, Lotor exposed his face, allowing Lance to bring his hand to Lotor’s face and rub tiny circles under the corner of his eyes. Lotor shivers and feels his cock slip out on its own accord, arousal finally past Lotor’s usual tolerance and control.

Lance notices, gleefully, and lifts his hips to rub against Lotor while his main fingers intertwined and pull at Lotor’s hair while his thumbs massage Lotor’s sweet spot. “Lotty, babe, you’re louder than I thought.” Lance bites his lips and suppresses a smirk. “That’s hot.”

Lotor feels his face warm beneath Lance’s touch, a bluer shade coloring his cheeks that almost glows against the usual lavender of his skin. Lance keeps his hands running over Lotor’s cheeks, but refuses to be as laid back as previously. Lance reclaims one hand while he sits up and let’s it travel down to undo his pants. Still confined in his boxers, Lance’s cock only gets partial freedom to spring to life, but Lotor gets the hint. In a moment Lotor is discarding Lance’s remaining clothes to his ankles and pressing his lips to newly available skin. Lotor wants to press against Lance more, but to do so comfortable for both of them, he would have to discard his clothing as well. With hesitation, Lotor makes up his mind to separate from Lance briefly so he can expose himself completely.

Lance realizes Lotor looks surprisingly similar. Instead of being purple, Lotor’s cock has a unexpected fleshy pink color. The key difference, the one that makes Lance widen his eyes, is how shiny it looks, glistening with whatever slick substance Galra must excrete naturally. Lotor waits for Lance to finishing admiring all of him, exposed completely, and prepares for Lance’s verdict. Nothing verbal, since Lance could not make a coherent reply, and simply pushes himself against Lotor so their cocks slide together easily from Lotor’s lube. 

The slow grind is enough implication that Lance wants to continue for Lotor to respond back. He takes his larger hand and wraps around his and Lance’s erections, not enough to engulf the both but enough to hear Lance moan and tear up in the corner of his eyes. Without prompting, Lance continues rubbing Lotor’s cheekbones, offering a small smile when Lotor manages to open the eyes he didn’t know he shut.

“How is-is this not too far for you?”

Lance lets out a breathy sigh and shrugs. “This is . . . just us exploring each other a little. It’s me trying to learn what makes you happy. Lotor,” Lance stops his hips from moving and runs one hand down to where he hops Lotor’s heart is, “This isn’t just sex, right? We’re connecting. You need that. I need that. I . . . trust whatever this between us”

Lotor glares at Lance for stopping, but his eyes close again when the hand on his face still massages gentle circles beneath his eye. “Whatever . . . this is between us. I already called you a companion.”

Lance jerks his hips up, teasing himself against Lotor. “I called us friends.”

Lotor groans, something that seems like sweat rolling down his face. “If we’re friends may you _please_ move.”

Hearing Lotor say please went straight to Lance’s groin, but he remains planted on the bed, unmoving save for one thumb ghosting circles on Lotor’s face. “I refuse to . . . call us friends. Have you dont this with Hunk? The siblings? We are . . . not friends.”

Even though the statement is true, Lance wants to say they are friends. He cannot think of anything else that suits them when Lotor is holding their dicks together. So little time has passed with them forming any conversation at all, but Lotor confided in Lance and Lance back. They had that bond, and they had attraction to each other evident in Lance’s bed. “Lotor.” Lance punctuates the name by moving his own hand along their cocks. “Do you want,” Lance licks his lips as he watches Lotor’s eyes on him, “do you think we could be . . . or maybe become, lovers?”

Lotor sucks in a sharp breath, frozen and on alert.

Lance has to use both hands on Lotor’s face to calm him down and shush him. Lance and Lotor are sitting upright, Lotor straddling Lance’s lap and looking ready to flee. “Shh, shh. It’s a weird word. We don’t . . . have to be in love to be lovers. It’s just a word that implies intimacy. Between us, there’s intimacy, isn’t there?”

Lotor considers for a brief moment, only a small moan escaping his mouth while he tried to think of a reply. Intimacy sounds different than trust and love, but hearing it makes Lotor assume the worst, that Lance and he have some deep bond that Lotor may not be able to ever really reciprocate. Yet he has done nothing but reciprocate Lance’s attraction, should he not have sought out Lance himself. Not in love, but Lovers. Those who can share a bed without fear of death or betrayal at one’s most weakened state, but not those who regard each other in a way that can be completely understood or revealed to others.

Lotor leans into Lance’s face, tilting his head and capturing Lance’s lips in a moment of passion. Lotor wants to buck into Lance’s hand, and Lance allows it, with them stroking themselves off together, laying kisses and marks all over the other and trying to explore the sensitive spots that could set the other into a frenzy of pleasure.

Lotor wonders how much time passed since Lance first planted the gentle kiss on Lotor against his door to them breathing in the other’s used air and mixing sweat. Lance takes all of Lotor’s questions and steals them away with his mouth and tongue shoved down Lotor’s throat. As far as worries for labels or emotions go, they both ignore those details as they seek sensation instead. The raw bliss that comes from release, and the overwhelming desire to release with someone else. That alone keeps them going, and Lance pulls apart from Lotor just to stutter out a warning only moments before he comes on their stomach.

Lance thinks, truthfully, the orgasm is not his strongest, but it shoots out and he throws his head back to release a muted scream. Lotor latches onto the exposed neck and leaves as dark a mark as he can near Lance’s collarbone. When the orgasm finishes, Lance falls backward onto the bed, unable to sit and reach Lotor’s face but still pumping Lotor weakly. Lotor’s cum sprays hot against Lance’s stomach after many minutes of pumping and grinding, and Lance feels rewarded.

Lotor allows himself few moments to breathe before making a motions as though he wanted to leave before Lance’s arm shoots out to grab Lotor’s. “You don’t want to sleep here?”

Lotor feels like a mess with his hair tangled and scattered and the stench of sex on his skin. “I should leave.”

“Do you want to leave, though? You can. I mean, I won’t lock you here, but, um, I like sleeping with you, and I don’t want you to go back to your tiny room.” Lance heaves his body back up and rests his hand on Lotor’s face without moving it. “Lotor.”

“Do you want me to stay to make ‘Voltron strong’ and build a repertoire between us?”

Lance laughs at that. “Obviously not, my dude. I’m asking because you’re a beautiful sight to wake up to in the morning, and I think you won’t kill me in my sleep.”

Lotor shares the upbeat mood shift, and smiles to Lance’s kind laugh. “I will stay then, Lance. I will stay,” Lotor repeats and let’s his eyes fall closed, ready to deal with more conversation in the morning but currently relishing the warmth of Lance’s body against his.

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Art made by me, hahaaaaaaaa? The waiting time was longer and you guys SPOILED me with a lot of kindness, so I wanted to make more than usual for you all. Thanks so much because when I was finishing my thesis I didn’t even plan for more because I was so drained but the comments meant. Meant so much. I ACTUALLY WROTE A THANK YOU BLURB IN MY THESIS ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS TO “THE THOUGHTFUL PEOPLE WHO COMMENTED AND SUPPORTED ME IN MY WRITINGS” in reference to fan fiction comments (which my advisor thought just mean thesising friends)
> 
> Anyway!
> 
> Love,  
> Grey
> 
> Edit: I can't freaking get my art to load on my side? Can anyone see it or does it just say "image"? I feel like if I were messing up this badly it wouldn't just say "image" and I'm made because I could have sworn Imposted art in my fics before. Uuuugh.  
> Here's the link:  
> http://artistic-grey-hero.tumblr.com/post/171190369475/ill-tag-it-as-nsfw-but-for-all-i-know-its


	4. Cute

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized why I’m in the legendary Voltron fandom. Funny story: so it’s like two nights before Hurricane Irma is supposed to land and school is canceled so I kinda don’t have homework but kinda get bored. And as one does I scroll through tumblr and someone with a pretty icon liked one of my posts (score. Someone liked my stuff!) so I click on it and pretty icon is Lotor and I’m like “a’ight. Season one is cool and I don’t CARE, but Manu likes Klance vibes and I’ll watxh s2 and s3 and geek out over this ship and whatever.” So mind you the only reason I got into this fandom was because of a literal category 5 hurricane was about to blow and I was so happy someone liked my work that I went to their blog and figured I was bored enough to try out Voltron for Pretty Lotor and Klance (and only one of those things actually worked out).
> 
> Also, a shout out to Anonony for being a dang delight. Like, what a pal. This chapter is shorter than last one, which sucks if I ever want to out-write her freaking Goblet of Fire sized series. BUT! My chapters are longer so one day I’ll catch up. (For real though if it wasn’t for Anonony’s works I would barely be driven to write Lancelot, and she’s so cute and nice and funny and talented and skilled and wow! Love that kid!)
> 
> CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of Galra being ruthless. Though I don’t use certain words, the Galra are not known as loving and respectable lovers. While Lotor is taking steps to be wholesome, he hints at less consensual parts of Galra history and . . . I dunno, it plays a minor role in the story but I wanted to offer a warning just in case. I’m also scared that making a warning takes something subtle and makes it worse, so I’m sorry for that but I wanted to be more transparent.

When Lance awakens, noticing a heavy feeling on his chest, he nearly jumps up. Instead, his bones feel like peanut butter and his body melts into the mattress as he thinks about his situations. The weight is warm, he notices first, and he manages to lift his hand to touch it, but he remembers before his fingers even reach the strong ropes of hair. Lance outlines Lotor’s ears with his thumb, smiling to himself that he gets to caress his lover in peace. Lotor does not drool, thankfully, as far as Lance can tell, and the alien keeps his head on Lance’s chest without concern.

Lance wants to move, to check the time, at least. Allura sent them to train early the precious morning, and would no doubt want to continue before they would engage in the enemy planet she mentioned. Lance feels no need to rush to a fight or battle, but he also cannot relax until he knows for sure what time it is and if he has time to lounge in bed or immediately get ready to avoid a scolding with Allura.

Lacking grace but maintaining quietness, Lance reaches out his hand to tug his alarm to face him. Lotor remains still, so Lance stretches his entire arm to his Earth-styled clock and feels a tingle of pride as his stealth. That stealth crumbles when he sees his hand in the faint glow of the red, digital letters. “Holy shit somethings on my hand!”

Lance darts up as much as he can and stretches farther to switch in his light. In the better lighting, Lance sees several purple splotches on his hand, and when he looks down on his stomach, he sees more splotches, with the added bonus of seeing a very disgruntled and upset Lotor.

Lotor looks alert and ready for combat, nothing at all like the lazy morning sleepyhead Lance expected from how they cuddled in the night. “Shit. I can . . . let you go back to sleep?”

Lotor glares at Lance but spares a glance at the clock. “We have three more hours before your princess would call for us. What brings you such urgency?”

“I’m sorry, but I’m turning _purple_! Look!” Lance waves his discolored hand in the air, panic beginning to set in again.

Lotor swats the flailing limb from his face and pins Lance down with a unimpressed glance. “That hardly calls for alarm. If you’re alive to have it set in like that then it indicates your species is compatible with mine. Otherwise Galra sperm poisons the hosts it comes into contact with.”

Annoyance replaces fear. “You could have poisoned me? With your _jizz_? And you just _let it happen_?!”

“Of course not. Your friend is Galra and human. I had evidence to assume we were compatible.”

Lance takes in a deep breath and points to Lotor with newly purple hands pressed together. “Boyyyyy, you didn’t think for half a sec that just because it’s ‘not deadly’ that alien sperm is something I’d want to not have mess with my body?”

Lance knows what a look of remorse looks like, and he knows Lotor can feel regret. Except Lotor continues forcing a neutral expression as though he feels something, and Lance cannot imagine what else Lotor would avoid telling him. The glare disappears and his face softens, almost like it wants to cover shame if Lotor could truly feel shame. “I realize this upsets you now. On you, they do not hold their common meaning, so I assumed you would not have to feel the discomfort others feel.”

“That’s not an apology and hardly even an explanation. We had our dicks smooshed together, I think you can tell me more about what semi-poisonous purple sperm markings are supposed to mean.”

“They’re irrelevant in this situation. The history is unnecessary.”

“Lotor, seriously. You brag about how great and efficient your body is all the time, so why are you saying you can’t tell me why your cum turns people purple?”

Not that Lotor seems like a liar, but he withholds truths and Lance sees his brain gears turning to give the maximum amount of information without revealing anything. As annoying as it is, Lance wants to hear what he has to say before getting upset. “It is efficient. It’s an evolved Galra trait to have Galra be able to mate with various species, so the poison acts as a way to prove a species is unworthy to host a Galra child, and the stain is to signal that a host is compatible. Galra do not wish for weak lineage, and will poison those unworthy to have our DNA.”

“Yeah, okay, that’s basically as fucked up as I should have expected from an oppressive, bloodthirsty species. But are you saying I’m stuck with this marking for forever?” Lance talks with every ounce of annoyance he feels but keeps his voice level.

“I do not believe so. It shows someone has lain with a Galra, so the markings work as a signifier than a strong child will be born. Our _species_ are compatible, but we as individuals are not. The color will fade as soon as the body recognizes Galra DNA is not going to mix with yours for reproduction.”

Lance groans and falls back onto the mattress, feeling the bounce of it beneath him. At least it would fade, probably, as far as Lotor can hypothesize. “So you’ve never done anything with anyone else to figure out how long it would take to fade?” Lotor offers no immediate response so Lance sighs and covers his eyes with his forearm. “Forget it. I’m not even mad anymore. We ain’t the same species so I just have to be prepared for more weird stuff.”

“Then we will continue these types of nights?”

Lance can still feel Lotor hovering over him even though his eyes are covered. He offers a shrug in response. “Yeah. Yeah, I think I liked it. And I don’t say just anything during sex, so if it’s a mutual thing we can be lovers. We went . . . farther than I thought we would, but I don’t regret it.”

The bed shifts, Lotor lying near Lance, but Lance still feels like Lotor is looking at him, so he uncovers his face and rolls on his side to face Lotor. “I personally thought we would do more, but I do not regret last night with you, either.”

Lance wants to laugh at the sincerity of the words, and wonders, briefly, for the first time, how far he could go with Lotor. Humor escapes him when he realizes last night must have been a large turning point for Lotor, and he continues staring into Lotor’s vibrant blue and yellow eyes. “You swear you already knew I wouldn’t die last night?”

“I am certain any sexual encounter with me will never harm you.”

“Yeah, I can believe you on that. I won’t hurt you either, even if I don’t know much about our compatible biology.”

“I believe you will hold your word on that, as well.” Lotor closes his when he speaks, looking serene with just Lance’s dim lamp light touching his skin and illuminating his his mess of hair frames his face and the surrounding area of the bed.

Reaching out his hand, Lance rubs a small circle over Lotor’s cheek again. “It wasn’t what you intended, but was I able to pleasure you?”

Lotor sighs into the touch, holding Lance’s hand in place with his own. “In ways no one else could have. Would have.”

The bed rocks as Lance scoots closer, letting his hands roam over Lotor’s body and lazily taking note of what Lotor responds to with his little purr-like hums. “You’re weird. You’re supposed to be made for battle but you got your sweet spot right in the open.”

Lotor blinks his eyes half open, looking at ease but willing to defend himself from any claim that he was not biological perfect. “It is . . . mm, not of Galra origins. Galra derive pleasure through low doses of sensation bordering pain or solely through genital stimulation. I’ve,” Lotor hums as he bites his lips when Lance trails a hand to the small of his back, an area Lance is happy to know they share in pleasure, “I’ve been blessed by the ability to feel pleasure as pleasure.”

Lance stops his teasing touches, holds Lotor’s face in his hands, and gives one small kiss on his forehead with all the compassion he could. “But have you ever had someone to share that pleasure with.”

“I never thought I wanted to. In reality, I just couldn’t afford to.”

“It’s okay to try now. We can stay like this for awhile. The alarm won’t go off for awhile.”

“I doubt I will continue resting. The tender touches have been appreciated, but we are awake, and should begin work.”

Lance flops on his back again and groans. “So much for pillow talk.”  
-  
Lotor’s hair resists knots and tangles past logic and reason. Not to brag, but Lance thought he did a _thorough_ job messing up Lotor’s hair and absolutely wrecking the guy, but the moment Lance passed him a comb he only needed about four seconds to make it silk again with every strand in place. Had it been his sister she would spend forty minutes and a jar of painful tears trying to brush the curly disarray of knots from just _usual_ bedhead, let alone brushing sex hair. Lance feels a pinch of envy to coincide with his usual awe of Lotor’s hair.

After all, seeing the strands fall with smooth grace back over Lotor’s shoulder takes Lance’s breath away. Having been close and personal with that head of hair, Lance finds a million and one reasons more to appreciate and admire it. When Lotor casts him a sideways glance to ask if it looks all right from the back, Lance tilts his head and smiles. “It’s perfect. But you’re still covered in cum and sweat. Go ahead and shower first.”

Lance truly expected Lotor to protest and insist he stay, but Lotor shuts the shower door behind him fast and all Lance can do is start trying to find clean clothes while Lotor gets ready. Lance’s hand looks a shade more brown than it had a half-hour prior when they awoke, and he hopes some clean water could wash away from of the stain. Lance is fine verbally telling the team he and Lotor have gotten closer, but a physical reminder seems more severe and much more embarrassing. It kept what they did in private much more open, and Lance realizes that may be the point.

Perhaps not by Lotor’s own intention, but the Galra, as a race meant to conquer, surely meant the mark as possessive. The half-truth Lotor left out. Lance realizes it implied property and ownership that would let others be able to readily understand some “lesser species” had already been claimed and dominated. Lance clenches his hand, trying to shake off the feeling of disgust at his realization that Lotor avoided the worst part, and he hopes he is mistaken. Except, as far as Lance understands, a mark of possession would probably be the least horrible thing the Galra have developed.

Lance lays Lotor’s armor on the bed and tries to smooth out the fabric a bit when he hears Lotor step out of the shower. Lance left him an extra towel, the one he hated because it felt like tiny suction cups on his skin drying him off instead of just normal Earth towel fabric, and Lotor emerges back into the main room with it over his shoulders as his hair rests on it. Lance barely registers the shameless nudity, too excited to have his own shower and try to scrub off his weird alien tramp stamp.

“Clothes are on the bed. Hang around while I shower, we can head out together after,” Lance says before ducking away to bathe himself. He almost slips on the wet floor as Lotor apparently considered it fine to not properly dry himself off, and he plans to save that argument for when he emerges until he instantly forgets with a spray of warm water washing over him.

Lotor has never leisurely donned his armor before. Whenever a need to remove it occurs, he moves past them with haste and rushes to have the protective layer over him. When he sees it, pressed flat over Lance’s bed, he only takes a slow stride towards it and slips into it a foot at a time. Lotor feels a lack of urgency, of danger, of need. Grabbing his armor and leaving crossed his mind when he showered, but only briefly, and the moment he saw Lance, trying to make sure when his clothes were ready for him to make him feel comfortable, the thought of leaving immediately after he got his clothes vanished.

So Lotor sits on Lance’s bed, smelling the faint hint of sex in the air and wondering if the scent would be stronger had they gone farther. Despite Lance preventing a more drastic night from occurring, the feeling of slowness relaxes Lotor. Lotor has great patience, but not unlimited, and he always needs to ensure his plans are taking steps in the direction he likes and preferably at his pace. Going by Lance’s pace and as far as Lance allowed, only as far as Lance allowed, let Lotor relinquish some of his need to have a perfect plan and have perfect control. It could have been fast, simple, and marginally pleasurable as a quick in-and-out experience.

Lance demanded more and less. Lance wants to care for Lotor physically in places none would dare try to touch, while also demanding Lotor learn about how to make it a mutual experience. Lotor checks the clock, and he notices Lance taking longer in the shower than he had, but he feels no rush. They have over two hours before they need to be ready, so Lotor tries to remember the night before more. All he remembers is one area that aroused Lance, but he needs to find other places for future reference.

The sound of running water stops. Within a minute or two the door emerges to reveal some stream along with a disgruntled Lance. Wearing only a pair of jeans and a towel wrapped up like a beehive on his head, all his stains are on display.

“They didn’t even come close to coming off. My skin’s red from how hard I scrubbed! And look, do you think it spread?” Lance asks, shoving his hand in Lotor’s face with exactly the same amount of purple as before on it.

“No, Lance, I do not think it spreads. Your Paladin suit has gloves. Surely no one would question you wearing it while you hide the marks.”

“That’s! That’s not the point! I don’t like it, Lotor. I don’t wanna have to hide things. It doesn’t look like a normal human hand, let alone my poor purple stomach.”

Lotor sits on the bed as he watched Lance fidget and examine his body. “It will subside soon. You will look like you soon. Though, I assure you, there is nothing wrong with having purple skin.”

Lance rolls his eyes and scoffs. “Sure, when it’s who you’re supposed to be. Being marked for having sex? It’s really uncomfortable. Tell me, after someone is marked as a species capable of carrying a Galra child, what happens to the mothers after the child is born?”

Lotor’s lips turn into a thin line. “They are often discarded, but that has no relev-“

“It matters! It’s weird to have a mark on my body that has been evolved to mean that I’m nothing more than a vessel. Regardless of your intent for me, I don’t want to have a stain on my skin.”

“You will not be discarded, Lance. I cannot change how my body reacts with yours, but I assure you that I do not see you as anything —anyone— but you.”

The slump of Lance’s shoulders and loud sigh signal both defeat and annoyance to Lotor. Lotor stands to apologize properly, but Lance’s gives him a sideways glance that holds him in place. “Thanks.” Lotor does not understand, but does not stop Lance from approaching him, letting Lance wrap his arms around him. “I already said I was chill with being marked, but I was mostly hoping I could just shower them off. Now that I know it’s literally a thing that will always happen, it’s really frustrating, but, like, you’re right. You can’t help that the Galra evolved gross sperm.”

Lotor chuckles while he embraces Lance back. “As though your sperm is not also disgusting. Why is it so hot?”

“Why is _yours_ so cold?”

Before Lotor could give an actual, biological answer like the nerd he is, Lance shuts him up and stands taller to kiss him. Their lips move against each other’s, and Lotor lowers his head without thinking so they can deepen the kiss. The feeling travels down Lotor’s spine, letting Lance press tight against him as he takes more control. Lance moves for air, but barely breaks contact to breath so he can continue to feel Lotor’s semi-rough tongue massage inside him mouth. When Lotor gains a throaty moan from Lance, he becomes quickly addicted and rubs Lance.

Lance throws his head back, choking back his moan as he focuses more on trying to breathe, except Lotor latches onto Lance’s neck. With his skin crawling and his pants getting tighter, Lance feels himself slipping and tugs on Lotor’s hair to encourage him to pull off. “You’re. You’re really improving. Damn, that was nice.”

Lotor presses his forehead to Lance’s, then steals a quick kiss before simply hovering. “You’re being modest about my skill.”

Lance turns red and averts his gaze. “N-no. I just didn’t expect you to go from an okay kisser to . . . really good kisser so soon. It must be because I’m such a good teacher.”

“No, you’re a moderately decent lover, at best.”

“Hey! I am great and loving!” Lotor smirks, and Lance finds the expression more endearing than annoying now that he has seen Lotor make other faces. Except Lance still needs to prove himself and tease Lotor back. Clasping Lotor’s face in both his hands, he pulls Lotor down to plant a chaste kiss on his forehead. “Being a lover involves a lot of kisses. That’s one I’m a pro at giving.”

“So that is . . . a normal kiss for humans?”

“Well, yeah. It’s a forehead kiss. It’s cute! Do Galra not believe in cute?” Lance takes a second and shakes his head. “Forget I asked. But for real, humans do things like that to show affection. It’s cute!”

“Cute is hardly apt for us considering I tried to kill you before and I have no attachments to whatever that was.”

Lance rolls his eyes and wonders if he spins them enough would they fall out. Lotor can excuse some of his ignorance on being an alien, but when a cute boy kisses him on the forehead he should be able to notice the cuteness of the situation. “Forehead kisses are literally the cutest kiss. They’re the kisses that lets someone feel safe and loved and protected.”

Lotor nods just once, a slow bob of his head as he tries to listen and understand Lance’s point. “Safe, loved, protected,” Lotor says with an unsure tone. He shakes his head once and sighs. “I have learned many foreign customs, and none imply such things with one small gesture. I do not understand, however I . . . appreciate the sentiment.”

Lance shoves his hands in his pockets and shrugs. He will take what he can get, and it implies that tiny gestures are not off the table, they just need to be explained. Lance opens his mouth, wanting to ask if affectionate gestures exist that Lotor would understand, but it dies in his throat. Getting so close so fast feels odd, and as much as Lance loves love, we wants Lotor to act and not push a personal boundary when Lotor seems to understand the physical part more. 

Lotor has been receptive for the past few days, and Lance wants to work on that a little more and figure out the little details between them before he showers Lotor in more tiny and grand sweeping gestures. Eagerness to give Lotor trust and kindness outweighs Lance’s eagerness to show him romantic love and physical pleasure. Friends first, even if he already skipped that, he needs to feel like they’re friends while acting as a lover. 

“Shall we head to the hanger so you may dress in your suit?” Lotor asks, snapping Lance out of his mild daydreaming.

“Oh, yeah, sure, but tomorrow morning we’re sleeping in and cuddling. It’s offensive that I’m actually awake this early and you’re making me do stuff.”

“That is merely a part of our mutual agreement to improve each other. I suppose lazying around your room a little while tomorrow morning after a hard day of training today would be a reasonable deal to make.”  
-  
Lance decides to wear a shirt before leaving the bedroom despite being certain no one would see him. He offers to let Lotor follow him, who politely declines in favor of returning to his own room. Lance figures the bit of alone time would be good for him and drops the subject after agreeing that they can train later.

Lance should thank Lotor because he barely feels safe making it to his suit without being seen, and he slips in faster than when planet’s were at stake when he hears Allura and Pidge talking nearby. Covering his hands and chest first, he jumps into his pants and tries to ready himself into a pose that looks natural by the time they step nearby.

“Lance, what are you doing?” Pidge asks, deadpan as she points to the hero-pose Lance thrusted himself into with his blaster aimed at the air and one hand covering his face as though he were casually looking away from his weapon.

Lance turns the dial of allure in his voice all the way up, smirking between his fingers as he waggles his eyebrows at Allura. “Oh, a little of this? What’s it to you? Impressed by my muscle?” Lance sends an exaggerated wink to Pidge, wanted to laugh at the look of disgust on her face. He would be offended if any other girl reacted, but with Pidge, it just feels right to tease.

“Oh, yuck! Stop being weird, Lance. Allura, make him stop.”

Allura smiles at Lance. “Oh, I don’t know, Pidge. You have to admit, he does have those budging, rippling muscles you have to admire.”

“Weeeeird!” Pidge sticks her tongue out at Lance and rolls her eyes.

Lance and Allura laugh, cackle, and Lance feels at ease finally breaking his weird hero pose to lower his heavy blaster. He really does have muscles, but not enough to continue that bluff much longer. Messing with Pidge is always a classic way to pass time, and it distracted them from wondering in greater depth why he would rush into his uniform so early.

“So, Princess, you weren’t just saying that about my muscles to tease Pidge, right? You really think they’re big and bulging, right? Right?”

Allura laughs, softer and more teasing this time, but does not answer before turning in her heels and walking away.

“Wait, no, you meant it, right?” Lance chases after her with Pidge finally feeling the sweet victory of watching Lance suffer.  
-  
Lotor knocks on the first door around the corner of Lance’s room the moment he hears Lance’s steps as faint echos. No response. Not that Lotor really knows the layout of the paladins’ rooms, but he assumed Hunk would be the nearest to Lance. Lotor takes a step back, looks around, and walks to another door around the hallway close to Lance’s in the opposite direction.

Lotor knocks once, and a rustling from the inside leaves him to believe at the very least someone is inside. Likely not the leader since he appears to be an early-riser personality, so he guesses either the older Holt sibling who seems like a night owl for technology or Pidge. When Hunk with sleepy eyes of confusion and green and yellow stripped pajamas greets Lotor, Lotor feels relief that he does find the person he wants.

“Hello, Paladin. I believe you stayed up too late?”

Hunk shifts weight between his feet and shrugs. “I wasn’t! Or . . . I mean . . . Yeah. Not as late as you, though.”

Lotor feels his eyebrows reach his hairline, and tries to level his emotions. “That’s a bold statement. I suppose if you could guess that it makes explaining this visit easier.”

“Uh, I don’t think it’s easy to handle the thought of you boning my best friend. Is-is that’s why you’re here? I just assumed, since, uh, I heard, and you two, and last night, um, is that why you’re here?”

Lotor sighs and releases his tension building in his shoulders and chest. “Yes. May I come in, Hunk. Last night I allowed you a chance to get closer to someone whom you . . . seem to like. I suppose I wish for the same assistance in return.”

“You can totally come in, y-yeah. Lemme make room. I gotta chair that’s good but a little cluttered,” Hunk rambles despite Lotor having no desire to sit or make himself too comfortable. Hunk clears the area and takes a moment to look back at Lotor, worry in his eyes.

“Interesting that you find it wise to turn your back on me. I thought you’d be more cautious than that.” Hunk jumo backs at the comment, shaking a little and Lotor’s neutral expression cracks to reveal a small smirk. “Relax, Paladin Hunk. I have never meant this team harm, so I especially will not want to jeopardize this moment when I need something from you.”

“And it’s about boning Lance?”

Lotor squints, his nose scuffing a bit but nods in slow understanding. “I would have chosen a different term, but yes. This is about Lance.“

“And . . . boning him. Not that I don’t get it. I mean, he’s my best bro so naturally I think he’s great and a cool guy, but, uh, did not see this coming. I mean. I _didn’t_ see it . . . coming, that is. I just heard it instead. Not that I meant to since I was walking by from talking to Shay and heard you. You know, like, Lance is quiet during sex, so I heard noises which meant it had to be someone else and I guessed you. I don’t mean that I know all about Lance’s sex habits, but we shared a dorm room, so I, like, know that I never knew when he was masturbating. ‘Cause he was quiet. He only recently told me that he got off all the time without me knowing. And. Uh. Kudos on getting laid?”

As much as stopping Hunk would have helped Lotor’s mind as well as Hunks, Lotor let Hunk ramble. Though some may call it gossip, semi-unreliable and hard to listen to at times, Lotor considers it another form of information. Information being the objective, Lotor casually listens to the details of Hunk explaining how they were caught by his own treacherous voice.

Lotor knew he should have insisted Lance and he head to his room instead.

“I will be sure to be silent next time we elope, then. Thank you for the advice and your approval, but I’m here for specific information.”

Hunk swallows. “Next time, huh? So the information you want is, specifically, about . . . “

“Where are humans sensitive? Lance tells little to me while there’s so much of him to touch. I personally like his ears. But do ears bring pleasure when rubbed?”

“That’s, uh . . . his prerogative. I, personally, do not, uh, want them rubbed. Behind them, um, you could kiss?”

Lotor mentally files the information in what Hunk is horribly disappointed will be used in the future. A part of Hunk wants to be weirded out, but he feels like supporting this relationship. Dating an alien who did not know how to understand you is not ideal, Hunk knows plenty of complications and cultural differences causing problems. And with that alien being the son of the enemy makes things awkward as hell but not . . . bad. Bad would be the son of the enemy forcing Lance into something and manipulating and using him.

The Lotor biting his lower lip and trying to understand Lance? That seems pretty good. Hunk sees Lotor making an effort in something Hunk cannot understand of their relationship, and Hunk wants his friend to be happy, so helping Lotor try to understand people, specifically Lance, seems like an overall win if not for the awkward images of them flashing into his mind. Still, Hunk gives an A for effort and hopes he can tell Lotor advice that will not wind up biting him in the butt later if Lotor does something Lance does not like from his suggestions. 

Lotor snaps from his internal debates and brings his attention back to Hunk, his hand curled around his chin and another arm draped across his stomach as he is poised for thoughts and learning. “Where else? What brings your kind pleasure or sensation? Knees? Shoulders? Fingernails?”

At that point Hunk loses the ability to feel flustered and cackles. His stomach turns in humor as he imagines a very serious and devoted Lotor trying get some human off by rubbing their _fingernails_. Finally, Hunk can appreciate the silliness of the situation and laugh out. “L-Lotor. My dude, that’s. _Talk_ to him about where he wants you to touch but for the love of space liberation don’t even bother _asking_ about his fingernails.”

Lotor scrunches his face, dropping pretenses and formalities for less than a second, but Hunk catches it and holds in another laugh. Before Hunk can comment, Lotor puts on his stoic face and speaks calmly. “I have talked to Lance, and I understand that he and your entire species may have variation, but have you really no ‘tips’ I could use.”

“Sex tips? Uh, no. That’s really important per person to talk about boundaries. Lance likes being praised and someone noticing him doing well. That’s, I dunno, something that can be sexual, but, for real, Lotor, just make Lance happy by telling him why he matters. Or really how he matters to you. Sex can be one thing, but you need to take care of Lance, too. I know him, he’ll want to take care of you, too.”

Lotor closes his eyes as he sucks in a long breath. When he opens them, he looks earnest and understanding. “Thank you, Hunk. Your information will suffice.”

“No probl-“ Hunk gets shut down by Lotor walking out and leaving letting the door shut behind him. “Okay then. Smell you later.”  
-  
Lotor finds Lance in the training room, practicing range fighting as simulated, large robots attempt to grab him. Lotor has no intention of stopping or interfering with the fight as he studies Lance’s stance, energy, precision, and skill. Lotor sees Lance conquer six bots, and Lotor wonders how many he beat before his arrival. Except of the three left, two capture Lance’s attention, so when Lance barely manages to take down the second, a third sneaks behind Lance and snatches his bayard.

Lance jumps, in what is fairly good timing, in Lotor’s opinion, but not fast enough or with enough force to get him out of the robot’s reach. In that moment, The Robot drags Lance into his clutches by ankle, and looks ready to crush Lance in its metal arms. Lance rams his elbow into the robots side, then yelps in pain as the metal clangs when Lance struck it. Perhaps the Robot would have continued squeezing Lance to unconscious, but Lotor rushes into the arena and slashes the Robot down from its back, ending the simulation as a victory for Lance before the Robot can cause any more damage.

“I could have handled that!” Lance shouts, genuine fury in his voice as he turns around, cradling his hurt elbow, to face Lotor. “Oh. Hey.” Losing his rage, Lance cast his shame-filled eyes to the floor and stays silent.

“How many attackers did you set the program to give you?”

“I think something like 14 . . . “

“The amount that most Galra ships station at a time to guard an area?”

“It’s not a big deal. If I can’t handle 14 then I need to get better.”

“You want to be better to the point that you could wipe out a ship on your own.”

“Does the reason I chose 14 really matter? I couldn’t get that many, and someone else had to come to my rescue. Whatever. I’m used to it. I’ll just get better!” Lance finally looks back up at Lotor, determination set in his eyes with his lips quiver.

“You don’t need to be _that_ strong. Not at once. Not at the cost of you recklessly hurting yourself in mere practice battles. You have a _team_ who can supply you with aid. At least until you can take down an entire fleet of Galra ships on your own.” Lotor steps closer to caress Lance’s face, but his hand pauses in midair before he rests it back to his side. Lotor stands with poise and refrains from getting any closer.

“An entire Galra fleet? Without my lion? Just me?” A laugh, one of genuine amusement. “Like anyone could do that. I wouldn’t even be able to get from one ship to another without Red.”

“Well, _I_ could dismantle a fleet on my own. Clearly we have much to cover, but it would not be impossible.” Lotor smirks, but Lance views it as a grin, one of pride more than smugness.

Lance turns to grab his bayard, thrusting the arm holding it at Lotor with a fire in his eyes. “Well, I took a moment to catch my breath. Now time to train me how to take down a Galra fleet by myself.”

Lotor draws his sword, matching the confident look in Lance’s eyes. “As you wish.”

They exchange blows with more finesse and level ground than the entirely weapon less fight from the previous day, but Lotor remains the victor. Trial after trial, Lance gets more fatigued, but the time he lasts remains the same, signally some growth occurring. Lance has advantages, namely the fact that he has a shield in his armor that Lotor does not, but having a shield only prolongs the damage and attacks Lotor delivers, not prevent him.

After the fourth attempt for Lance to one-up Lotor, he collapses from his loss on the floor, breath heavy and lungs stinging as they try to capture sweet, necessary air. Lotor refuses to offer to help Lance from the ground, allowing his lover to pant on the ground. Lance needs a brief rest, after all, and so does Lotor, for that matter.

“Hey . . . Lotty . . . “ Lance says between breaths. “You saved me . . . Sorry for . . . yelling at you. Thanks. For taking it down.”

Lotor sits on the floor, near Lance but with more than an arm’s distance between them. “I would do it again. No need to thank me. You handled a very good portion on your own.”

“But it wasn’t enough. So thanks.” Lance calms his breath enough to only need an occasionally heavy gasp for air. He lies on the floor and enjoys the coolness of the floor as he rolls onto his stomach to feel it on his face. Then he groans. “Dammmmn it. I needed help!” Lance groans into the ground more than to Lotor.

In a moment, Lotor remembers Lance’s advice and thinks of how to handle the situation. “Helping is . . . how you’re teaching me how to be better. And you having failed has given you a chance to improve. You see this too much as a failure and not enough for what it is: training. You’re an excellent marksman, Lance, and a very good fighter. Failures here will eventually translate to success.”

In much like a mumble, Lotor cannot understand whatever Lance says in reply. “Pardon? Is that not correct?”

Lance shoots up his bruised body to sit to face Lotor. “Uuuugh. No, you’re right. I guess you’re starting to move away from ‘perfection or death’ now, huh?”

“It’s ‘victory or death’ and, no, it is still a deep part of me. Perfect is a part of victory, but I have learned the concept that not ever win has to be graceful, so, perhaps, perfection is negotiable when things can still work out.”

Lance smiles, exhales through his nose as he listens to Lotor’s voice. “Even still, I wanna be graceful, too. I’ll make sure I’m strong enough. For . . . everyone. And for me.” Lance puts his palms to the floor, and scoots closer to Lotor, leaning higher from the ground so he can kiss Lotor’s cheek. “And for you.”

“Another type of kiss. How many do you humans have?”

“As many parts of your body as you have. Except weird places. Like, I’m not gonna kiss your armpit, but, yeah, cheek kisses are common. It’s -“

“Cute.”

Lance smiles even wider, his hands matching his cheeks as he spreads his arm wide to semi-tackle Lotor into a hug. Lance plants a sloppy kiss on Lotor’s lips, the smile noticeable even while they smoosh lips to the point even Lotor finds himself smiling.

Then the door to the training room opens and Lance recalls that he actually has to officially train with the team now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Confession that I originally planned to make the sperm poison but I like the intimacy of blow jobs to go through with it. BUT. I loved taking a different direction of it only killing some people and Lance being compatible. Salt also almost convinced me to make the stain permanent purple, but I have SOME sense of mercy.
> 
> I have also a good idea of the finish of this series. I can’t stand even numbers, so there will be one chapter after this. Then part four as emotional sex. And part five as a fun little story because I LOVE WRITING FRIENDSHIP. So part five is just team shenanigans and stuff. A part of my wants to make it “not rated” so this series can have each type of rating but meh. That’ll be future me’s decision.
> 
> Please review. I’m posting at 2am Thursday because I USUALLY get most reviews on Thursday and it’s really nice to get them. Ugh. They’re so nice. I can’t express how much I reread every one I have in my email.
> 
> Love,  
> Grey


	5. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’d like to dedicate this final chapter to many very special friendships in my life.
> 
> (1) HA! Take that, Manu! I know you ain’t reading this but screw your “Grey is a slut for angst” slander. Not ONE character death and literally NO angst. Ha! I made it! And entire fic series that’s as anticlimactic as a Ghibli movie. Fight me, my love!
> 
> (2) This poor nerd named Mars I’ve been sending all my angsty headcanons to whenever Manu makes fun of me. Literally an angel and out of my league of kindness.
> 
> (3) The author formally known as senpai. I needed to get this out before her birthday before she’s back to being senpai.
> 
> (4) My tortured roommate who inadvertently gave me motivation to write because I HAD to use our IRL convo in a fanfic and this one worked best for it. Towards the middle the dialogue gets weird and I love it. My only regret is that I’ll never be able to capture her revolted face in words like it was during our convo.
> 
> (5) *90s VHS font* And viewers like you (because I talked to a lot of adorable people along the way and you best believe every single one of you mattered except that one kid. But you are that kid. That kid was a jerk and probably isn’t reading this)

Lance wants to believe he froze the moment he felt other people enter the room, that he looked as poised and presentable as ever. Except Lotor has just flicked his tongue in his mouth, and Lance moaned a bit at the contact. For the first time, Lance wishes Lotor is still bad at kissing because Lance feels like he has melted to the floor from just making out.

The team has seen Lance do some questionable things while he should have been on the job, but making out, undeniably making out, really is not something he wants to admit to and finishes the kiss as best he can with the awkward tension seeping into the room. Not that Lance feels particularly remorseful, but he realizes with eyes on him and Lotor that the position is pretty bad. He can say he tripped. He can say he was tired and wanted to lie down and use Lotor as a pillow.

Lance really cannot bother lying to his team, not with how compromising the position really is. Lance kneels between Lotor’s legs, clutching Lotor’s lower back while Lotor has one hand propping them up behind him and one hand behind Lance’s head. Lance feels the fingers that were once running through his hair freeze in a tight grip at the sudden interruption. They mutually part their mouths from a kiss and Lance realizes he had no real escape plan since he has a saliva trail connect his and Lotor’s lips.

“Um,” Lance utters, weak to his own ears.

“Lemme guess: this isn’t what it looks like?” Pidge asks, looking like she wants to hold back a laugh but she also looks just as confused as the others.

“Uhhhh, what’s it look like?” Lance asks, turning his gaze to Lotor which hides his face from the team. Lance mouths a ‘help me?’ and gives an angry pout.

“It kinda looks like you’re about to get laid.” Matt could not be any more The Worst, but his tone almost sounds like it is supportive, and Lance groans into the nook of Lotor’s neck and shoulder.

Lotor looks onward when Lance has his face buried in his neck and hair in shame. Matt points his fingers out in a particular way, thumbs up and index out, with a big smile on his face. Lotor does not understand, but he senses no malicious intent from the gesture. Lotor takes a deep breath, willing himself to speak.

“If that is the case,” he says smoothly, “then it really is not what it looks like. Lance and I were merely . . .”

“Just kissing! Just! Kissing! Kinda need to seize the moment while you can here in space. Nothing to see here. This is totally PG and doesn’t get in the way of work at all. Now we should get started, right? Right!” Lance hops to his feet, puts his hands on his hips and gives a showy grin that falls flat on his face as his eyes dart back and forth trying to gauge the team’s reaction.

At first Lance thought everyone arrived, but Coran and Hunk are still missing from the training area, for better or worse, he supposes. For the most part the team just seemed confused, with Allura scrunching her nose at the two of them. Seeing her face brings Lance’s mood down, and he turns away, noticing Lotor still on the floor. With a small sigh, Lance turns his attention back to Lotor fully and offers Lotor a hand, which Lotor takes as he soundlessly stands back onto his feet. Despite the awkwardness, shame does not set in Lance’s stomach, not when he sees Lotor beside him looking just as disgruntled but also so calm.

“Lance is right. We should begin training. But you two are going to be scolded later. No making-out in the training center has to be considered an on obvious rule. That, I mean, that has to be a safety issue. What if a bot tries to attack you? Consider your surroundings, always.” Shiro shakes his head to himself, as though his main issue is truly rooted in safety concerns, and his dismay and distraught seem cute when Lance realizes that innocent concern is the case.

Allura nods her head. “ _Should_ go without saying. Honestly. Regardless, we can break into pairs like yesterday, just switch partners than the ones before.” The rule makes sense to get diverse hand-to-hand training, but Lotor and Lance have reason to suspect she would not have said that rule aloud had Lotor and Lance been a pair before.

One glance at Pidge and Lance realizes she is about three seconds from bursting with a slew of questions and embarrassing comments. Hunk, his friend and savior, is nowhere to be found yet, who would be his original first choice, so Lance glances at Allura and Shiro only to immediately rule out Allura. Lance has no qualms over wanting Shiro for his partner since their leader seems the least likely to tease him. In the time he debated who to choose, though, Pidge already asked Shiro to spar, and Lance’s heart sinks.

Matt tries to choose Allura, but she turns him down. Something about the “last time” she tried to fight against Matt, and Lance wonders where was he during such juicy drama, but counts it as a blessing so he can grab Matt. Then that traitor, absolute traitor, Lotor takes Matt’s hand into his own and smiles sweetly as he asks Matt to try and punch him in the face. Matt gives off some straight vibes, except that traitor’s smile could probably seduce anyone, even in the heat of battle. Lance wants to be jealous except watching Lotor spar is something to admire, and anger tarnishes the beauty of it.

Allura taps on Lance’s shoulder, snapping Lance out of his angry trace. “Lance, we can get started now. I could have knocked you on your feet three times by now.” Absolutely nothing Lotor related? Lance feels blessed, and regrets not asking Allura to be his sparring partner in the first place if she was going to be so professional. Lance smiles but before he can say anything Allura swoops a leg at Lance’s ankles and sends him falling to the ground. “Make that four times I could have knocked you to your feet. Stop daydreaming about . . . whatever it is. You said not two minutes ago it wouldn’t get in the way of work.”

“I’m not daydreaming about anything!” Even though Lance speaks loudly, the words hold no power since he knows how much he thinks about Lotor has been in a constant cycle and distraction the past few days. “I’ll trip you at least ten times!”

Before Lance finishes getting off the ground, Allura grabs an arm and twists it behind Lance’s back so he kneels away from her face. “I never trip. Not even from something as truly shocking as kissing a former enemy right in front of me. And I should emphasize that that was truly a shock. Even still, how do you plan to challenge me?”

“I dunno,” Lance says with a groan as his arm remains twisted. “Making out with you in front of said former enemy could be a good way to surprise y-ow!” Allura twists the arm tighter, then releases completely before taking a large step back.

“Mind yourself, Lance, or I’ll-I’ll take away your video games!” Allura nods to herself, and though she truly thought of the best punishment.

Lance rolls his eyes, and takes a half-second to shake feeling back into his arm. Lance smirks as he changes his stance to a better attacking pose as he thinks of a way to charge at Allura without getting caught mid-way. “Okay, _mother_. Not like I need them anymore. Lately, I pass my time making out with Lo-“

“Team! Come quick, it’s urgent!” Lance loses his footing and trips right before getting to land an attack on Allura.

Allura laughs out, eyes closed and completely amused by Lance’s failure. “Th-the look on your face when you fell! Lance, you almost looked like you knew what you were doing!” Allura continues a small chuckle as goes to help Lance up, and a part of Lance wishes he could stay on the floor and rot and another part wishes to hurry up.

As much as Lance wants to use Allura’s giggling fit at him as a distraction for an opening, he feels more concerned about Coran telling them to get to the main control room. “Haha, funny, but we gotta see what Coran wants. Not to mention the look on your face was totally scared! You knew I almost had you.”

Allura pats him on his shoulder and nods. “A valiant effort, but you did not land a single blow to me.” Allura ponders for a moment and her face sours. “Physically. Never mention your _activities_ to me again. That’s a scar that I fear won’t heal.” Allura turns from Lance and coughs a bit into her hand to get everyone’s attention.

“Let’s check on Coran, everyone!” Shiro shouts before Allura gets to, and by her expression she almost said the exact same thing. She shoots Lance an annoyed glare that resembled more of a pout, but Lance holds in his humor and lets her follow Shiro out without teasing her.

Lance sighs, soft and to himself, letting his footsteps fall a few steps behind Allura. Lance feels a hand on his shoulder, immediately making Lance turn to only to see Lotor looking down at him. “Your skirmish with Allura was lacking, but I’ve seen you do better. With the bots earlier today. Or on the field.” Lotor squeezes enough for Lance to notice but not feel pain. “I suspect you’re just fatigued, but we can practice more later if you’d like.”

In an instant Lance feels comforted. Cared for, even. Another sigh, but this time it sounds relieved instead of disappointed. “Yeah, we can practice later. Pretty sure it’s your darn fault I’m so tired anyway.”

“I suspect that’s the case. We should work on your stamina as well as skills.”

“I-I got stamina! And skills! I can last longer than you, probably,” Lance’s hisses with redness gracing his cheeks. “What were you even watching me for? You seemed real eager to get along with Matt.”

Lotor’s soft expression falls into a grimace. “Yes, well . . . I thought as a mechanic and someone who seems - what’s the word? - ‘friendly’ on this team, that we could have some mutual establishment that was not based on my relationship with you. I was mistaken. Sorely. He seemed far more interested in asking about our relationship than fighting, so I watched you as a distraction from his blabbering. Tell me, what does he mean when he suggested I ‘get some’?”

Lance sputters out an incoherent sentence, no answer coming out that could help Lotor understand silly Earth slang and no answer that explained why Matt had to be such tease. Even though his face feels warm, Lance takes a deep breath and shrugs off his embarrassment enough to pretend to be level-headed. “Ignore him. He’s just being weird and telling us he’s supports us boning each other.” Lotor nods at Lance, less curiosity in his eyes, so Lance assumes explained it well enough.

When Lotor slides his arm off of Lance, Lance admits to himself he really misses the touch. Everyone enters the main room, though, and no one thinks of anything except trying to understand why Coran pulled them away with such urgency. Coran keeps typing in coordinates, from what Lance can see, barely even noticing the team entering. Hunk stands near Coran, barely taking notice of the team until he looks up from the computer work he was analyzing.

“Coran, we’re here,” Allura speaks up after a moment watching Coran at his work.

The team collectively stifles a giggle at the way Coran jumps into the air from being startled. Lance reminds himself to be serious, sneaking a look at Lotor who keeps neutral. “Oh, Allura! Team! Well, I got good news and bad news. Which to start with?”

“We start with the bad news, Coran. What’s the situation?” Shiro speaks for everyone on the matter, though he does look around for a moment for any disapproval.

“Well, bad news is the Galra supply base we wanted to dismantle is a lot more fortified that I thought. The Blade sent a recent report that at least two armed ships guard it, and that the supply chain runs deeper than just as a loading dock. If that one falls, Galra troops already have planned three other stations that could replace it. Attacking it would not only has added danger, it might not even make an impression if the mission is a success.”

Shiro clenches his robotic arm and nods. “What’s the bright side to this report?”

“Oh, this Blade of Mamora report is _exquisite_. The details are exact and precise while being just a marvel to read for coherency. Sure, I’m not happy with what the report says but the presentation and usefulness of it is incredible. I’m thinking of having us learn from the Blade later so we can be able to report to our supporters and allies as cleanly as this.”

Everyone has a mixed reaction to the good news, Lance twitching his lips while Allura just looks ashamed and embarrassed. Pidge turns to Hunk, and Hunk just shies away from his spot.

“Well, anything else that you noticed from the report?” Pidge asks with just an ounce of hope but mostly frustration.

“To be honest,” Hunk begins, “it really is well documented. I’ve been trying to look at it more but this section of space really is saturated with strongholds. We may have to sit back for a bit and find a spot that would be more impactful if we take it out. Or at most quietly scavenge around.”

“We can head to the Ba’lait section. Communities there have always been rather weak, and if they weren’t already abandoned we can swiftly take them out and edge deeper into the Galra empire.”

“That would be an ideal situation, but we thought this plan was rather low risk high reward. We should probably do what Hunk thinks and wait and scavenge,” Lance bites his lips after he speaks, confidence leaving when he thinks his commentary will be pushed aside.

“That’s true,” Matt speaks up, putting his hand to his face while he goes into deep thought. Definitely looks like he just wants to look smart, but Lance still appreciates Matt trying. “We can ask the Blade about that area, too. We can probably afford two days of looking around ourselves while we wait for another report on their suggestions.”

“Two days waiting?” Pidge asks, not agreeing with the idea and twisting her face trying to wrap her head around it.

“Just waiting for a feedback is good. We won’t be idle. We can spend the time doing our own research to see if the Ba’lait area is still as clear as Lotor remembers. Patience is a better strategy in this situation.” Shiro pats Pidge in the back and offers a smile. Even though Pidge smiles back, everyone is feeling the disappointment that their plan is ruined before it begun.

“I agree. Coran, we should start moving the ship back to ally territory while we work through our plan. You all should try to resume training, but you’re otherwise dismissed.” Allura walks toward Coran who is already smiling and turning his back on the rest so he can start putting in new coordinates.

Matt and Shiro offer to stay behind in the control room with Allura and Coran. After a moment of thought, Lance turns to Lotor and pauses. “You should probably talk to them while they plan, right?”

“I am aware that I should, but they were taking us to an entirely different region for now. I was about to suggest more sparring practice.”

Lance shakes his head. “Nah, thanks though. You’re the one who said I look fatigued. I’ll try and rest then we can practice more when you get the plan details worked out with Allura and Shiro. I’ll catch you later, Lotor.”

Lotor had a workaholic personality, so the thought of him wanting to hang out with Lance meant a lot, it did, but Lance had to make sure he went and helped the team for big plans. Normally no one needed Lotor to have to make himself be useful with decisions, so Lotor pulling himself away and offering to train with Lance seems almost too sweet. Lance wants to pretend Lotor just wanted to make-out more, except he really did awful against Allura and Lotor no doubt wanted genuinely to help Lance improve.

So now Lance has to look at his two best friends who also decided to ditch the control room talk, the both of them smirking and waffling their eyebrows. “Soooooo,” Pidge speaks first like she will burst if she cannot get her thoughts out, “you and Lotor? How long?”

Lance rolls his eyes because he knows, he _knows_ , to expect this but his face still heats up and he really does not want to discuss it with his friends. Not yet, at least. Not after the information leaking only because he was lowkey getting it on in front of them. Lance keeps walking, making both Hunk and Pidge walk with him, standing on either side.

“It’s okay, buddy. No need to feel embarrassed about you and Lotor,” Hunk says it because he means it but he looks embarrassed himself. “Wait, how does Pidge know about you two? Her room is away from yours.”

Lance pauses and his mouth falls open because “Wait, you weren’t there this m- how do you - what do you mean about my room?!” He sputters trying to get every idea across as they enter his mind.

Pidge eyes Hunk with Lance as she also realizes Hunk was not present that morning, then she turns into a snarky looking feeling child as her face splits in half with the cockiest smirk. “Ooooh, no way! Oh, oh, Lance, you have to tell us! What happened in your room that I couldn’t know about?”

“W-we played some games and stuff!” Lance power walks away but his face says it all before he rushes past them. He hears them laughing, mostly Pidge laughing, and refuses to turn back to look at them.

Not that they get the hint that he’s so flustered to talk at the moment as the catch up to him. “For real. It’s okay. I, uh, only heard it because I was passing at the time. You totally weren’t being loud or obvious! I’d have never know.”

“Oh, he’s definitely loud and obvious. You should have been there, Hunk! I think Lotor was actually trying to eat his face!”

Hunk looks at her in horror then looks back at Lance. “He’s trying to eat you?! He seemed so nice when we talked this morning though!”

“Wha-what?! No! No, Lotor is definitely not eating my face!” Lance glares a few daggers at Pidge. “Stop worrying Hunk, Pidgeon-face.” Then Lance turns to Hunk, “And you! Stop worrying! It’s totally cool between me and Lotor. He’s not gonna hurt me.”

Hunk nods, but he still has a little pout on his face. “Okay. Okay, that’s good because, like, he came to me asking how he can be, like, better with you and I think he really cares. But who knows. Maybe Galra boyfriends eat faces since it’s not like I told him not to eat your face. He’s definitely not human so, who knows, I have to worry. He could hurt you by accident.” Hunk sighs and shrugs his shoulders, looking at Lance with a gentle worry.

Lance finally feels a bit more at ease with his friends knowing, at least when their concern is from a good place. Without notice Lance finds himself smiling and shrugging back. “It’s whatever. Last night was . . . kinda awkward because he’s definitely not human is a way to put it. But it works. We work. I think. I wouldn’t call him my boyfriend, though. I don’t think Galra even have that concept so it’s weird. It’s really weird but nice. So far I can promise he won’t eat my face.”

“Okay, but to clarify, you got laid? By Lotor. _The_ Lotor?” Pidge interrupts.

Lance slaps his hand over his face and drags it down with a groan. “Kinda, I guess. I mean, we just - wait, you’re not even old enough for this conversation! You’re like 11!”

Lance feels like Pidge sticking her tongue out him proves she’s 11, but doesn’t make another comment because he remembers last time she tried to bite him. “Dude, I just wanna know. I’m like 16, I think. My birthday may have passed, so maybe 17.”

“Oh, for real? I think it really might have passed on Earth, yeah. Happy belated 17th birthday, Pidge!” Hunk goes in for a hug and Lance knows he should take it as a good chance to escape, but he decides to join in on the group hug, nearly crushing Pidge to death. 

“Aaaah,” Pidge squirms in their embrace, “air! Need! Air!” Finally Hunk and Lance repent so Pidge can escape. “Assholes.”

“Hey! That’s no way to take to your elders!”

“Yeah, you’re still too young for that type of language!”

Pidge rolls her eyes. “Fine. But I’m calling you jerks jerks at least.”

Lance and Hunk share a look and nod in agreement. “That’s acceptable. But you can’t say it around Shiro or Coran. They must not be tainted by your gremlin nature.”

The glare Pidge gives them looks like it’s coming from an angry squirrel, and it takes all the willpower Lance has to try and take her seriously. “Once I get my growth spurt and take down the Galra singlehandedly it’s over for you jerks.”

“Oh, not all Galra, I hope. The Blade of Mamora are cool. Oh, and Lotor.” Hunk innocently brings the conversation back in the wrong direction by just mentioning Lotor’s name if the spark in Pidge’s eyes indicate anything.

“Oh, right! So what’s sex with Lotor like? What’s his dick like? Do you have some weird alien biology kink? Did you bottom?”

“Pidge! Stop!” Lance really never ever wants to think of someone with an alien kink or have the conversation at all. “It just _happened_ because we got along. It’s not like I did it purposefully because he’s still kinda really hot as an alien. We . . . We only kinda had sex. And I’m not even sure how go ‘all the way’ with Lotor before you ask. It’s all just one big kinda.”

“Do you like him?” Hunk asks, no judgement in his gentle eyes.

“Kinda,” Lance shrugs, “yeah . . .”

Hunk smiles with the answer and pats Lance on the shoulder. “That’s good. Lotor is one weird dude, but so are you. I think he’s good for you.”

“Lotor is pretty weird but he’s cool, sometimes, too. Do you like having sex with him? Isn’t it weird?”

Lance hates Pidge so much. “What if I do?!” Lance gets so exasperated that he hears his voice crack in the question.

Pidge doesn’t answer, but she’s grinning. Far too mischievously for Lance’s sake. “If you don’t know how to go all the way does that mean when you’ll do you’ll bottom?”

“H-how does question work at all in your mind.”

Pidge looks nonchalant as she shrugs. “We don’t know if Lotor has a butthole, so it’d have to be yours.”

“Excuse you, Lotor has to have a butthole. How else would he,” Lance waves his hand around in a meaningless motion as he tries to find the right words, “you know.”

“Yeah, but what if it’s not like humans. You don’t know either,” Hunk starts to look like he is really getting confused by his own question, and Lance will never want to ask where his mind is taking him.

“So if Lotor does have a butthole, where would it be? Oh! What if it’s like in his hands like the crevice between the nail and the skin!”

“That’s absolutely disgusting, Pidge. He eats with his hands.”

“But he always wears gloves!”

Lance blanches at the argument because Lance has definitely been touched without Lotor wearing any gloves. “He takes off his armor sometimes. He even licked his fingers clean after eating the pizza.”

“Yeah, but people wash their hands after using the bathroom and before meals all the time. Maybe he can lick his fingers after that.”

Hunk looks scandalized, hand over his chest and a serious look in eyes. “I would _never_ lick my butthole.”

Lance is too busy laughing at Hunk to even care about the weirdness of the conversation. “As if you _could_ lick your own butthole, nerd.”

“I’m just _saying_ that given the opportunity, I would not. Ever.”

“What if it was someone else’s? You only said you wouldn’t like your own.”

“Still no! I would never!”

“Okay, Fine, how about you, Lance. You lick Lotor’s butt yet?”

Lance makes gasping choking sounds while his mouth hands open to look for and dignified answer and there really is no way to end this cycle of madness with Pidge. “I-I’m done. I’m out. See you tomorrow or never again while I scream into the void.”

“Smell you later.”

“Have fun. Stay safe!”

Lance doesn’t even spare his friends another glance before he rushes to his room and collapses on his bed. He realizes he still has his pilot armor on, but decides to take it off later when no one will notice since he remembered about the weird marks on his body. The day has been nothing but constant weirdness and embarrassment, so Lance decides that he deserves the peace and quiet of his room.

He counts his blessings, he really does. The team handled the situation well, and it feels like less of a “situation” and more of “this probably would not even phase the team if it was something they did not find out with him mid-moan.” Lance probably could have used a nice fighting session or mission to get his mind on a new topic, but all he can settle for is trying to play another round in his fighting game. Even though distraction is tempting, Lance opts to lounge in bed and keep wallowing in his own thoughts.

Maybe he really should figure out some stuff with Lotor. Lance enjoyed the previous night, and if that is all their bodies could handle because they’re such different species, so be it. Lance would be fine with some weird alien grinding-handjobs or whatever. Lance would be fine with no sex, too, when he thinks about how fun being with Lotor has been before all that. The kissing, though, he wants to keep even if kissing is what got them into trouble.

So as awkward as the conversation went, Pidge and Hunk have a point. Lance should ask where the relationship is _going_ since they already discussed where their relationship is. Hunk called Lotor his boyfriend, and even though it, at the moment, is inaccurate, Lance did not put a lot of effort into correcting him because he likes the thought of it. Kinda, at least.

Lovers. Lance likes the word to describe them, he does, but he still wonders, at least about what will happen later. Even if Lotor tells him this is all temporary, that he and Lance are just companions getting by together as lovers until the war ends, Lance would appreciate knowing. Lotor’s half the relationship, and Lance wants to know what Lotor wants from it.

Lance hears a knock on his door, and even though it could be literally anyone and all he wants is to be alone, he gets up to welcome whoever it is. He feels tired, but opening the door to reveal Lotor’s face makes Lance feel so at ease. Even though he expected anyone, the anxiety of having to talk to Shiro or Allura or Coran completely dissolves.

On instinct, Lance smiles, leans up, and wraps his arms around Lotor’s neck to give him a kiss because it felt right. When Lotor wraps his arms around Lance’s waist, then it just begins to feel safe. Lance much prefers feeling Lotor’s warm embrace than being alone.

Lance tears himself away first, allowing Lotor inside his room, almost like he belonged there. “How’d the thing go? We going to Ba’yeet or wherever?”

Lotor sat on Lance’s bed and sighed, showing his exhaustion openly without thought. “We talked briefly of our plans to go to Ba’lait, yes. The Blade urged us to wait and assured Shiro that they would find out if it would be worth the trip or if another attack objective would be more useful.”

“So nothing much different then what we talked about before. That’s cool. Tomorrow’s a day off to do whatever and train then!”

Lotor shook his head. “The War plans only lasted a moment. I should have left then. I felt utterly defenseless the moment we stopped our transmission with the Blade and I was attacked by an onslaught of questions.” Lotor’s voice is strained, as though he wants to stay calm and not show his nerves being undone, but emotions are starting to show.

“I can relate. Pidge and Hunk really wanna know about how sex with Galra work and the conversation was weird. But they like you. My friends like you and were cool with us, y’know, doing stuff together.” Lance sits on the bed beside Lotor and squeezes Lotor’s hand while he starts to lean on Lotor’s shoulder. “I’m happy about it. My friends are your friends, and you’re a part of Voltron now! You’re really one of us. It’s nice to be a part of the same team.”

Lotor turns his head over to peck Lance’s forehead. “Certainly not my first choice of a team. I won’t go far enough to say I’d trust them much less risk my life for anyone . . . anyone except perhaps you, but I can see now that I really am here.” Lotor looks at Lance and holds Lance’s face so they can look at each other. “I’m starting to not mind being here.”

Lance grins and feels more relaxed than he had all day as he pushes Lotor down to use his chest as a pillow. “Yeah, we’re a mess, all of us, but if you don’t mind _my_ mess of all people, then you’re meant to be here. And I really like having you in my life even if I don’t understand you or your body.”

Lotor chuckles, a lovely sound Lance hears mixed with Lotor’s heartbeat as his chest moves a bit. “If it comforts you at all, apparently even I have things to learn about my body. Coran is a very . . . wise man. Once Princess Allura began to berate my earlier behavior with you, Coran discovered the nature of our relationship. I love learning about the various cultures of the universe, so Coran offered to drag me away from the princess in order to discuss my Altean ancestry.”

Lance laughs because Coran would save the day and spare Lotor from any more of Allura’s lecturing. Deciding he wanted to look at Lotor while he spoke, Lance rolls onto his stomach and pushes himself up to lean on his elbows. “That’s so cool. He tell you about your cheeks and how your hair is magical?”

Lance sees Lotor cringe and bite his lips. “Among other things. I . . . learned a lot of new places that would make an Altean feel pleasure. Places I personally never tried or thought to try. He trapped me into his ramblings for what felt like millennia going into great detail of pleasure and Altean mating habits. Coran also briefly touched the topic of courtship.”

“Courtship? Teaching you how to be romantic? Not sure I’d take Coran’s advice on that sort of thing.” Lance chuckles at the thought of Coran as a renowned ladies’ man, but when he glances at at Lotor he realizes maybe he spoke too soon. 

“I suspect that old man has more . . . experience than everyone aboard this ship combined. I appreciate the thought of enlightening me on my heritage, and shudder at the memory of his vivid details.”

Lance kisses Lotor on the cheek, and tries to rub a his thumb in soothing circles on Lotor’s other cheek. “There, there. At least you learned some stuff even it was too much. Tell me, what amazing courtship advice did you learn? Woo me with Altean tradition.”

Lotor offers only the smallest smile in reply, slowly closing his eyes as Lance continues his gentle touches. He looks like he wants to fall asleep, but he keeps talking. “For starters, we’re going about this in the correct order. According to Altean traditions, those who would treat your body tenderly and respectfully when all is on the line and few protection is up are the ones you should try to court. A physical trust begins emotional trust. After guaranteed physical safety, the emotional courting involves the two walking through gardens and trying to communicate using the meanings of the plants around them. Courtship ends by offering a pair of matching earrings.”

Lance takes the information in slowly, silently concluding that Alteans are a very promiscuous race of people, and he really could not be more surprised. Not to mention an image of a seductive Coran keeps creeping into his thoughts and it is Disturbing him. “Damn, I shouldn’t have asked but that’s still pretty cool. Not gonna lie, if - when - I take you to see my home in Cuba, I really always imagined taking you to see all the pretty flowers we have. I mean. Now that I know it’s a part of how you’re supposed to court would you . . . be okay with that?”

Lotor opens his eyes again and tilts his head on the bed to study Lance’s face, only seeing Lance furrowing his brow and biting his lips as he waits for an answer. “You’re asking to court me?”

Lance tightens then releases biting his lips so he can smile at Lotor with an affirmative nod. “Yes. I would like to court you. It may not be soon, but as soon as we can, I want to court you. Would you accept my humble offer, whenever we’re done fighting?”

Despite the thick pause between the question and Lotor’s answer, Lance feels calm. All Lance wants is an answer to the question, some closure that whatever he has with Lotor has a future. Lotor swallows, and Lance sees the bob in his slender neck as he does so. Without a word, Lotor raises himself off the bed slightly to capture’s Lance’s lips with his own and claiming every moan that escapes Lance’s throat.

“Lance, according to Altean traditions, you’ve already started courting me. You’ve proven to be the only one I want to show this side to, and I will wait as long as needed for this courting to progress.” Lotor licks his lips, showing off one of his fangs and smirking when his tongue returns back to his mouth. “How could you court me as a human?”

Lance blushes a bit and scratches the back of his head. “Oh, we kinda did this all weird, but I’d take you to get some food, then we can watch a movie — which I may have to do anyway since I bet you’ve never seen a movie. It’s nothing fancy, but I’d take you to meet my family, show you our garden, then leave you with my mom as she talks your cute pointy ears off about the grandchildren you won’t give her.”

“I see the two styles of courtship coincide well enough. I encourage you to not introduce me to your family so soon. Earth has far too much information to understand and if I you leave me alone with them I may start wishing they were Coran instead.”

Lance laughs hard enough for his stomach to hurt. He stops leaning on his elbows to rolls over and laugh holding his chest. “Oh, man, you’d want to die after half an hour of them talking nonstop! They’ll be so mad I brought home an alien dude, I know we talked about that, but just wait until they _like_ you. Then instead of the silent treatment they’ll never leave you alone!” Lance continues to laugh at the hypothetical Lotor sitting around the table with his sisters and mother and grandmother while they knit and gossip and try to make Lotor learn all about the juicy secrets going on in town.

Lotor smiles then kisses Lance again, soft but fleeting. A kiss just to show affection without any deeper lust or intention. “That sounds lovely.”

It does. It really does sound perfect, and Lance wants to make it a reality more than ever. Lance glances at the clock and knows that it is only midday, that they should get something to eat and go back to training. His heartbeat mellows out from the excitement of the day, and all he wants to actually do is lay down and cuddle and think about the idealistic little courtship they planned.

Lance promises himself to get up if Lotor gets up, but, until then, he wraps his hugs Lotor’s waist and buries his face in the crevice of face and neck. The soft hair swirls beneath Lance’s cheek like a pillow, but a few almost get in Lance’s mouth and he pepper’s kisses on the back of Lotor’s neck.

Lance feels more than hears gasp and he continues to work his way up Lotor’s neck, leaning on an arm to prop himself high enough to start trailing his kisses to Lotor’s face. As much as he wishes he can continue, he wants a peaceful afternoon, and the kisses remain sweet and tender. Lance catches the hint of a smile on Lotor’s face, and the sight causes Lance to break out into his own wide smile. “I’m really happy being with you, you know that, right, Lotty?”

Lotor smiles again, and he half-rolls to glance up at Lance. “I suppose that means I’ve been far too lenient on your training. As soon as we’re done in here I’m giving you the most intense practice session you can survive. Barely survive, more likely.”

Lance almost dreads the idea, almost anticipates it. Lotor will very likely train him within an inch of overexhaustion. Despite the fear of it, Lotor wants to ensure Lance succeeds, and Lance wants to improve, so he nods his head in resigned agreement .

“So when are we done in here?” Lance asks, twirling a lock of Lotor’s hair in his fingers.

“If you approve, then I would like to show you the places Coran mentioned I should try.”

“O- _oh_.” a new light sparks in Lance’s eyes. He leans over to take Lotor’s lips, adding the extra sense of want and desire their earlier kisses lacked. “Yeah, yeah, let’s try it. We can figure it out together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was so self-indulgent because for the most part it’s just fun. I want to believe you liked it, but I understand if not. This is just a fun thing to do because I liked imagining the characters being friends and getting along.
> 
> I’m a bit bothered that I just know I’m not going to update this series later. I know what to do for future parts but at a certain point in like June-July I was just . . . no. No, thank you. orz Even still I’m super happy that this is done and a weight off my chest and I got to have all these nice experiences with these nice people.
> 
> I . . . Mmm ♥️♥️♥️ I loved reading your comments and talking to people. You guys were so good to me. I hope the cheesy ending is fine because it’s what this series deserves. I mean, to think, all this time writing a story called Filling in Gaps and I didn’t make ONE sexual innuendo. I kept thinking I would but I never wound up adding one.
> 
> As always, Love,  
> Grey


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